THE  LIBRARY 

OF 

THE  UNIVERSITY 
OF  CALIFORNIA 

PRESENTED  BY 

PROF. CHARLES  A.  KOFOID  AND 
MRS.  PRUDENCE  W.  KOFOID 


/ 


-A    ''    .  «    » 


* 


PETER  SCHLEMIHL  IN  AMERICA. 


PETER  SCHLEMIHL 


AMERICA 


"  I  persuade  myself  that  the  ridiculing  of  the  errors  and  extravagances  of 
mankind  is  not  acting  contrary  to  the  general  conduct  of  the  saints,  and  that  the 
censures  for  so  doing  are  no  less  directed  against  the  great  doctors  of  the  Church 
— as  ST.  JEROME,  in  his  letters  and  writings  against  Jovinian  and  Vigilantius — 
TERTULLIAN  in  his  Apologetic  against  the  follies  of  idolatry— ST.  AUGUSTINE  against 
the  monks  of  Africa,  whom  he  calls  the  Hairy— St.  IREN^EUS  against  the  Gnos 
tics— ST.  BERNARD  and  the  other  Fathers  of  the  Church,  who,  having  been  the 
imitators  of  the  Apostles,  ought  to  be  imitated  by  Christians  in  all  succeeding 
ages;  since,  whatever  may  be  said,  they  alone  constitute  the  true  models  of  the, 
present  times"  PASCAL,  Prov.  Lett.,  XI. 


PHILADELPHIA: 
PUBLISHED  BY  CAREY  AND  HART. 

1848. 


Entered  according  to  Act  of  Congress,  in  the  year  1848,  by 
CAREY  AND  HART, 

in  the  Clerk's  Office  of  the  District  Court  for  the  Eastern  District  of 
Pennsylvania. 


PHILADELPHIA  : 
T.  K.  AND  P.  G.  COLLINS,  PRINTERS. 


BUT  what's  this  to  the  purpose  ?  you  will  say : 
Gent,  reader,  nothing ;  a  mere  speculation, 
For  which  my  sole  excuse  is — 'tis  my  way. 
Sometimes  with  and  sometimes  without  occasion, 
T'  write  what's  uppermost  without  delay ; 
This  narrative  is  not  meant  for  narration, 
But  a  mere  airy  and  fantastic  basis 
To  build  up  common  things  with  common  places. 

"  But  why  then  publish  ?" — There  are  no  rewards 

Of  fame  or  profit,  when  the  world  grows  weary. 

I  ask  in  turn — why  do  we  play  at  cards  ? 

Why  drink?  why  read? — To  make  some  hour  less  dreary. 

It  occupies  me  to  turn  back  my  regards 

On  what  I've  seen  or  pondered  sad  or  cheery  5 

And  what  I  write  I  cast  upon  the  stream 

To  swim  or  sink — /  have  had  at  least  my  dream. 

BYRON'S  DON  JUAN,  Canto  XIV. 


M319272 

'        •: 


PETER'S  LETTER  TO  HIS  FRIENDS. 


TO  THE  FAMILY  CIRCLE, 


3D  MAY,  1845,  IN  THE  CITY  OF  . 

MY  DEAR  FRIENDS: — The  following  pages  were  commenced 
about  a  year  since,  and  have  been  written  to  beguile  the  solitude 
of  a  city  away  from  all  the  pleasant  associations  of  early  friend 
ships,  and  a  home  endeared  by  the  recollection  of  unnumbered 
happy  hours.  I  have  been  compelled  to  look  in  upon  myself  for 
society  and  occupation,  which,  till  recently,  have  always  been  sup 
plied  from  the  pleasant  circles  by  which  it  has  been  my  happiness 
to  be  surrounded — a  conjuncture  which  must  be  felt  to  be  under 
stood. 

When  I  began  Peter  Schlemihl  in  America,  I  had  no  thought 
of  extending  the  story  beyond  three  numbers  for  some  magazine. 
A  distinguished  literary  friend  read  the  story  when  it  had  reached 
the  second  number,  and  on  being  told  it  would  be  wound  up  in 
the  third  and  last,  he  remonstrated  against  such  merciless  dispatch 
of  my  dramatis  persons,  and  urged  me  to  make  a  book  of  it. 
The  idea  seemed,  at  the  moment,  an  impossibility:  but  finding 
pleasure  in  the  labor,  I  continued  to  write,  and  found  the  work 
grew  under  my  hands.  The  publication  of  the  series  was  com 
menced  in  the  Knickerbocker,  but  the  restrictions  necessarily 
imposed  by  the  requirements  of  a  monthly  magazine  were  not  at 
all  fitted  for  the  license  of  one  accustomed  to  take  seven  leagues 
at  a  step ;  and  with  mutual  kindness  and  no  lack  of  friendship  on 
the  part  of  the  "  Old  Knick."  the  series  was  discontinued.  But 
the  advice  of  those  whose  opinions  I  respect,  and  the  solicitation 


Xll 

of  those  I  love,  induced  me  to  resume  my  labor,  and  changing 
my  plan,  the  work  has  reached  its  present  shape. 

It  has  been  my  purpose  to  present,  in  a  form  likely  to  attract 
attention,  topics  of  general  interest.  In  doing  so,  I  have  sup 
pressed  many  things  which  would  have  given  brilliancy  to  the 
coloring,  and  added  depth  to  the  shadows,  and  so  have  brought 
out  in  stronger  relief  the  several  subjects  I  have  attempted  to  por 
tray.  I  have  been  guilty  of  no  exaggeration — I  have  not,  to  use 
the  saying  of  an  old  author,  either  "dug  out  hell,  or  blackened 
the  face  of  the  devil" — the  public  will  not  bear  the  whole  truth. 
There  are  some  scenes  and  subjects  which,  had  they  been  written 
out,  the  outline,  as  it  lay  in  my  mind,  would  have  been  filled  up. 
******* 

To  you,  my  dear  friends,  these  pages  will  come  with  an  inte 
rest  few,  beside  yourselves,  can  find  in  their  perusal.  They  will 
remind  you  of  one  who  has  been  made  happy  by  the  unvarying 
manifestations  of  your  friendship — the  growth  of  many  years. 

As  a  family  we  are  never  more  to  meet.  The  light  of  our 
home  circle  has  been  hid  from  our  eyes.  She  whose  smiles 
cheered,  whose  wit  enlivened,  and  whose  sympathies  sustained  us, 
sustains,  enlivens  and  cheers  us  no  longer.  "  Her  sun  has  gone 
down  while  it  was  yet  day;"  but  we  hope  to  meet  at  OUR 
FATHER'S  table  in  heaven,  thence  to  go  out  no  more  forever. 
Our  Journey  of  Life  must  soon  terminate:  to  some  of  us  the 
way  will  be  dark  and  solitary — a  pilgrimage  renewed  and  sus 
tained  with  no  kind  auspices. 

That  we  may  meet,  an  unbroken  circle,  is  the  first  wish,  as  it 
will  be  the  last  prayer,  of 

PETER  SCHLEMIHL. 

May  1,  1848. 


INTRODUCTION 

BY  THE  EDITOR  OF  THE  KNICKERBOCKER  MAGAZINE. 


"THE  Wonderful  History  of  Peter  Schlemihl,"  by  Adalbert 
Von  Chamisso,*  was  first  introduced  to  English  readers  in 
1824,  illustrated  by  the  plates  of  Cruikshank.  The  story  thus 
told  was  in  those  days  ascribed  to  La  Motte  Fouque,  and  for 
a  while  attracted  great  attention.  From  that  time,  Peter  has 
been  invisible,  until  he  was  recalled  to  the  world's  regard  by 
the  translation  of  William  Howitt,  two  years  since.  But  as 
there  may  be  many  readers  to  whom  this  "Wonderful  History" 
is  unknown,  and  as  we  have  every  reason  to  believe  that  the 
veritable  Peter  is  on  this  side  of  the  Atlantic,  it  may  not  be  amiss 
to  give  the  reader  some  outline  of  his  wonderful  history,  corrected 
in  such  manner  as  to  present  what  we  are  assured  are  the  real 
facts  in  the  case,  and  which  the  license  of  authorship  has  in  some 
points  varied  from  the  verities  as  existing  in  the  life  and  adven 
tures  of  our  real  Peter  Schlemihl.  Chamisso  relates  with  great 
beauty  and  grace  the  interview  of  Peter  with  the  rich  Mr.  Tho 
mas  John;  the  reception  of  the  poor  student  by  that  million 
aire;  his  meeting,  in  the  train  of  his  friends  and  servitors,  the 
Gentleman  in  Black,  who  is  caricatured  as  a  "  still,  thin,  lanky, 
longish,  oldish  man,  dressed  in  an  old  French  gray  taffety  coat." 

*  Recently  reprinted  by  Carey  &  Hart  in  an  octavo  volume,  edited  by  Fre 
deric  H.  Hedge,  entitled  "The  Prose  Writers  of  Germany." 


XIV  INTRODUCTION. 

Now  that  the  Gentleman  in  Black  may  be  somewhat  given  to 
masquerades  of  various  sorts,  we  may  well  imagine,  but  we  do 
not  believe  in  any  such  sort  of  descriptions  as  that  given  by 
Chamisso.  The  wonderful  pocket  of  the  Gentleman  in  Black  is 
very  justly  described  as  being  singularly  capacious;  but  though 
we  can  readily  believe  it  may  have  contained  English  plasters,  if 
need  be,  to  apply  to  a  lady's  finger,  wounded  accidentally  by  a 
thorn,  or  of  a  telescopic  glass  to  help  the  vision  of  Mr.  Thomas 
John's  guests,  we  yet  find  ourselves  compelled  to  pause  and  hesi 
tate  as  to  the  possibility  of  its  capacity,  when  we  are  asked  to 
believe  Chamisso's  narrative  that  the  Gentleman  in  Black  really 
did  draw  from  his  pocket,  in  compliance  with  the  request  of  the 
lovely  girl  who  asked  him  "  whether  he  had  not,  perchance,  a 
tent  by  him,"  "canvas,  poles,  cordage,  iron  work,  in  short  every 
thing  which  belongs  to  the  most  splendid  pleasure-tent;"  and  our 
power  of  credence  is  altogether  surpassed  when  he  is  represented 
as  pulling  "three  beautiful  great  black  horses  with  saddle  and 
caparison — three  saddled  horses ! — out  of  the  same  pocket  from 
which  already  a  pocket-book,  a  telescope,  an  embroidered  carpet 
twenty  paces  long  and  ten  broad,  a  pleasure-tent  of  equal  dimen 
sions,  and  all  the  requisite  poles  and  irons,  had  come  forth !" 
We  are  assured  by  our  Peter  that  the  facts  of  his  private  history, 
as  stated  by  Chamisso,  are  in  the  outline  fairly  given;  that  he  did 
sell  his  shadow  to  the  Gentleman  in  Black  for  the  purse  of  For- 
tunatus,  but  that  when  he  did  so  he  had  not  a  single  stiver  in  his 
pocket,  and  his  last  hope  of  employment  had  failed  him  in  the 
arrogancy  with  which  Mr.  Thomas  John  had  treated  him ;  that 
the  purse  is  fittingly  described  as  "  a  tolerably  large,  well-sewed 
Corduan  leather  purse,  with  two  stout  strings,"  into  which,  as 
often  as  he  plunged  his  hand,  gold  pieces  could  be  drawn  out  in 
any  number  that  might  be  desired ;  that  the  loss  of  his  shadow 
caused  him  all  the  inquietudes,  and  far  more,  than  are  sketched 
by  Chamisso;  that  his  admiration  of  Fanny  and  love  for  Mina 
are  but  poor  portraitures  of  the  power  of  grace  over  his  own 
unhappy  destinies ;  that  the  desire  of  the  Gentleman  in  Black  to 
get  the  substance,  having  possessed  himself  of  his  shadow,  is  all 


INTRODUCTION.  XV 

very  judiciously  narrated ;  but  that  he,  Peter,  should  throw  into 
a  deep  well  the  Corduan  purse  which  had  cost  him  so  much,  is 
altogether  a  mistake,  or  a  poetical  license,  as  the  reader  will  here 
after  see.  Indeed,  nothing  could  have  been  more  absurd  than 
such  a  course  of  conduct;  for  what  is  a  man  without  money? 
The  method  by  which  our  Peter  became  invisible  is  related  by 
Chamisso  in  a  way  more  improbable  than  need  have  been ;  but 
the  buying  of  the  seven  league  boots  is  perfectly  true,  and  also 
the  surprise  attending  his  first  essay  at  the  use  of  them. 

MAGAZINE  FOR  AUGUST,  1846,  p.  115. 


PETER    SCHLEMIHL 


AMERICA 


CHAPTER  I. 

Mrs.  Julia  Smith  gives  her  first  grand  party — Description  of  Mrs.  Smith  and 
her  guests — Mrs.  Smith's  early  history — Mr.  Smith's  courtship — Marries 
Mrs.  Smith,  and  removes  to  Babylon  the  Less. 

IT  was  past  3  o'clock  on  the  night  of  the  1st  of  December,  18 — , 
that  Mrs.  Julia  Smith,  the  ambitious  lady  of  Mr.  John  Smith, 
received  the  conge  of  the  last  guest  of  a  very  large  party  of 
those  who  formed  the  self-constituted  aristocracy  of  the  great  city 
of  Babylon  the  Less.  The  varnished  and  conventional  smile  of 
society  had  vanished  from  her  fair  face,  and  she  stood  in  the  cen 
tre  of  one  of  her  splendid  suite  of  rooms,  gazing  with  an  honest 
expression  of  wretchedness  at  the  spots  and  puddles  of  sperma 
ceti  which  had  descended  from  her  numerous  candelabras  and 
brackets,  to  the  great  injury  of  her  rich  carpets  and  damask- 
covered  sofas  and  chairs,  and  to  the  utter  ruin  of  many  of  the 
fine  dresses  worn  by  her  "  dear  five  hundred  fashionable  friends." 

The  party  was  the  result  of  long-matured  plans,  and  was  the 
first  she  had  given  since  Mr.  Smith  had,  at  her  entreaty,  pur 
chased  their  splendid  house  situated  on  Grosvenor  Square,  of  all 
the  neighborhoods  of  Babylon  the  Less,  deemed  the  most  select; 
and  which  had  been  fitted  up  with  every  luxury  which  taste  had 
suggested,  and  which  money  could  procure.  Her  husband  was  at 
the  moment  bowing  out  the  last  of  their  guests,  and  she  dreaded 
the  moment  of  their  meeting.  It  had  been  her  desire  to  rank  with 
the  "upper  ten  thousand"  which  had  led  him  into  all  the  expen 
ditures  and  sacrifices  of  his  own  tastes  and  simple  habits,  all  of 


18  PETER  SCHLEMIHL. 

which  had  the  point  of  culmination  in  this  her  first  party,  and 
which  she  had  hoped  would  have  been  the  bright  apex  of  her 
ambition. 

Mr.  Smith  entered  with  a  look  of  utter  disgust  and  weariness 
of  the  position  he  had  been  compelled  to  sustain.  "  Well,  my 
dear,  this  is  the  brilliant  party,  that  was  to  have  been  !  I  should 
say  it  has  been  a  splendid  failure,  but  for  the  strange  eclipse, 
which  shed  its  disastrous  twilight  upon  us  all,  before  your  party 
had  but  commenced  their  supper." 

"My  dear,"  replied  the  lady,  in  tones  which  deprecated  his 
anger,  "who  would  have  believed  so  many  lamps  could  have 
diminished  in  light  so  rapidly?  They  were  lighted  entirely  too 
soon." 

"  But,"  said  Mr.  Smith  angrily,  "  there  were  your  candles 
pouring  down  streams  of  lava  in  all  directions  ;  surely  they  must 
have  been  made  of  lard  instead  of  wax." 

"  No,  dearest,  the  candles  were  of  the  best  of  spermaceti,  and 
such  as  is  everywhere  used,"  replied  Mrs.  Smith. 

"  And  too,"  exclaimed  the  irritated  gentleman,  "  how  infernally 
hot  your  house  has  been  !  I  believe  the  devil  himself  has  been 
heating  the  furnaces." 

"My  dearest  husband,"  said  Mrs.  Smith,  "I  am  distressed  to 
see  you  so  unhappy.  The  rooms  have  been  overheated.  Patrick, 
with  his  usual  stupidity,  thought  he  must  give  our  guests  a  warm 
reception,  and  this  is  the  cause  of  all  our  mishaps." 

"  To  have  roasted  your  friends  was,  to  be  sure,  bad  enough," 
said  Mr.  Smith,  with  a  most  cruel  sneer,  "but  to  have  basted  them 
with  spermaceti  was  indeed  to  '  snatch  a  grace  beyond  the  reach 
of  art.' ' 

"  Alas  !  my  love,  have  mercy  upon  me !"  cried  out  Mrs.  Smith. 
"  I  am  not  to  blame  :  why  make  me  to  feel  myself  in  fault  ?  It 
was  all  in  consequence  of  the  mischief  of  those  Misses  Van 
Tromp,  who  went  about  fanning  themselves,  as  if  they  were 
dying  for  fresh  air,  and  begging  those  young  fops  of  theirs  to 
draw  down  the  upper  sashes,  which  of  course  occasioned  a  draught 
of  air,  and  set  the  candles  a-running.  Surely  'twas  no  fault  of 
mine;  and  though  T  regret  the  injury  done  my  guests,  yet  they 
must  have  seen  who  was  to  blame,  and  that  I  was  the  greatest 
sufferer." 

"  Excepting  myself,  if  you  please,"  said  Mr.  Smith.  "  It  was, 
to  be  sure,  quite  a  scene,  and  was  not  without  its  good  hits ;  and 
I  would  not  have  objected  to  have  been  one  of  the  sufferers  any 
where  else  but  here." 

"  My  dear,  what  could  have  set  them  all  dripping  so  near  the 
same  moment  ?"  inquired  the  wife. 


MRS.  SMITH'S  FIRST  PARTY.  19 

"  Why,"  said  Mr.  Smith,  "  the  same  cause  usually  produces  the 
same  effects.  There  was  no  miracle  wrought  to  save  us  this 
evening,  and  so  the  same  current  of  air  which  filled  one  cup  of 
your  candelabras  full,  filled  all;  and  it  would  have  been  as  im 
possible  to  have  escaped  a  hail-storm  as  this  shower  of  grease. 
Mont  Morris  came  up  to  me  soon  after  the  flood  had  subsided, 
and  the  sperm  had  cooled;  while  I  was  expressing  my  regret  at 
his  misfortunes,  seeing  his  shoulders  all  white  with  sperm,  which 
he  bore  with  his  usual  kindness  and  good  humor,  Mrs.  Vandam 
tapped  him  on  the  elbow  as  she  was  passing,  and  said  with  a 
sneering  laugh,  'My  dear  General,  you  wear  your  epaulets  this 
evening.'  " 

"  Well,  my  dear,"  said  Mrs.  Smith,  "  she  was  well  repaid  for 
her  ill  nature;  for  when  all  seemed  safe,  and  the  servants  had 
repaired  the  mischief  by  new  candles,  one  had  been  overlooked, 
and  she  was  standing  under  it,  when  down  came  a  stream  of 
spermaceti  spangling  her  beautiful  dress  with  spots." 

"  Yes!"  said  Mr.  Smith  ;  "and  do  you  know  how  she  repaid 
me  for  the  glance  of  satisfaction  she  doubtless  saw  my  face  must 
have  expressed  ?  She  whispered  to  a  lady  near  me,  and  quite  a 
stage  aside  it  was  too,  '  I  verily  believe  this  is  a  contrived  affair 
to  compel  us  to  renew  our  dresses  at  his  fine  store.  It  has  the 
merit  of  novelty,  and  I  shall  certainly  patronize  him.' ': 

"  Alas  !  my  dear,  she  is  so  cynical,  don't  mind  her.  She  is 
but  one  of  the  many." 

"  Yes,"  said  Mr.  Smith,  "but  when  the  many  are  in  a  like  con 
dition,  they  feel  alike.  And  at  your  supper  too,  I  was  compelled 
to  hear  the  gibes  and  jests  on  all  sides ;  and  among  them  was 
that  Coryphaeus  of  fashion,  as  he  deems  himself  no  doubt,  gazing 
down  the  tables  as  if  he  were  looking  through  a  tunnel,  and  turn 
ing  to  Mont  Morris,  exclaimed,  in  a  voice  quite  too  loud  for  the 
sensitiveness  of  my  ears  this  evening,  '  This  is  truly  a  most  re 
markable  specimen  of  the  chidro  oscuro — quite  in  the  style  of 
Rembrandt !" 

"  Oh!  Heavens  !"  exclaimed  the  wife,  in  an  agony  of  feeling, 
"  what  would  I  give  for  lamps  which  never  burn  dim  !" 

"  Let  me  tell  you,"  said  Mr.  Smith,  in  tones  harsh,  cold,  and 
so  very  slow,  "  till  you  shall  find  them,  I  swear  to  you,  that  this 
is  the  last  party  you  shall  ever  give  in  any  house  of  mine."  And 
so  saying,  he  bade  her  good  night,  leaving  poor  Mrs.  Smith  seated 
on  a  sofa  in  the  utmost  wretchedness.  She  sighed  deeply,  as  she 
recalled  the  scenes  of  the  evening.  All  the  disagreeables  which 
had  met  her  husband's  eye  and  ear  had  been  observed  and  heard 
by  her,  and  she  too  had  been  compelled  to  suffer  many  things  of 
the  sort ;  and  there  was  not  wanting  a  sprinkling  of  those  "  d — d 


20  PETER  SCHLEMIHL. 

good-natured  friends,"  as  Byron  calls  them,  who  never  leave  you 
in  ignorance  of  your  misfortunes,  and  whose  bland  tones  of  sym 
pathy  convey  the  most  stinging  satire,  and  are  the  severest  of  trials 
to  a  lady's  self-possession,  when  passing  through  a  fiery  ordeal 
like  that  which  had  overwhelmed  Mrs.  Smith'.  After  a  short  time, 
she  rose  and  stood  before  one  of  her  splendid  mirrors,  and  there 
contemplated  her  entire  person,  as  faultless  in  shape  as  in  costume. 
And  she  felt  all  was  not  lost.  If  she  had  failed  of  the  success 
she  had  hoped  for,  yet  it  was  not  an  entire  failure.  There  were 
some  incidents  which  she  could  recall  with  satisfaction.  She 
again  scanned  her  figure,  and  felt  that  if  it  was  not  faultless,  yet 
it  was  attractive,  and  that  its  attractions  had  been  acknowledged 
by  some  whose  approval  was  worth  possessing. 

Her  figure  was  indeed  eminently  graceful ;  her  hair  dark  and 
luxuriant;  and  her  clustering  curls  beautifully  relieved  the  fair 
ness  of  her  skin  ;  and  though  her  nose  was  somewhat  too  aqui 
line,  her  mouth  and  teeth  were  perfect,  her  tones  musical  and 
clear,  and  her  eyes  were  liquid  and  bright;  nor  least  of  all,  she 
knew  their  power,  and  how  and  when  to  use  them.  Her  step 
and  movements  had  been  often  remarked  upon  by  foreigners  and 
those  capable  of  judging,  to  be  eminently  Castilian  ;  and  that 
which  she  appreciated  most  of  all,  was  the  air  of  repose,  which 
was  never  for  a  moment  disturbed,  though  it  had  been  so  severely 
tried  this  evening.  She  had  seen  the  impressions  made  by  her 
address  on  her  visitors,  and  had  been  encouraged  and  sustained. 
Though  she  had  seen  but  little  of  the  society  of  the  circles  she 
had  now  gathered  around  her,  yet  there  was  nothing  which  would 
indicate  anything  of  newness  in  her  present  position.  She  re 
ceived  her  visitors  with  ease  and  quietness  ;  there  was  no  attempt 
to  play  the  hostess;  indeed,  she  addressed  herself  to  the  self-love 
of  such  as  she  sought  to  win,  by  rather  seeming  to  seek  their 
support  than  to  afford  it.  And  especially  was  this  manifested  to 
ward  those  whom  she  regarded  as  the  true  aristocracy  of  the  city. 
For  though  she  had  heretofore  been  but  a  "  looker-on  in  Vienna," 
yet  she  had  come  to  the- conclusion  that  the  true  arbiters  of  fash 
ion  were  not  those  who  deemed  themselves  such,  but  they  were 
of  those  old  and  well-established  families  who  combined  the 
possession  of  wealth  with  high  moral  and  intellectual  qualities, 
and  whose  sons  and  daughters  were  inspired  with  sentiments  of 
respect  for  the  good  and  the  true,  in  whom  the  real  power  of  so 
ciety  rested. 

Such  were  Colonel  Worth  and  his  lady,  and  their  lovely  daugh 
ter  Grace.  In  receiving  this  family,  Mrs.  Smith  evinced  that  de 
gree  of  pleasure  and  her  sense  of  the  honor  thus  conferred,  which 
was  marked  and  effective,  and  of  which  they  felt  the  value  in 


MR.  DE  LISLE.  21 

contrast  with  the  Van  Tromps,  and  other  vulgar  rich  folks,  who 
were,  as  matters  of  course,  present  at  her  party.  And  when, 
during  the  evening,  the  satirical  sayings  of  these  groups  of  ill-bred 
and  over-dressed  belles  and  their  beaux  reached  the  ears  of  the 
Worths,  and  they  were  impelled  by  their  true  politeness  and 
truthful  feelings  to  sustain  her  by  their  attentions,  the  look  and 
manner  of  Mrs.  Smith  told  them  of  her  gratitude,  and  of  her  high 
appreciation  of  the  delicacy  and  kindness  which  had  prompted 
them  to  pay  her  these  attentions.  But  especially  was  Mrs.  Smith 
flattered  by  the  marked  manners  of  Mr.  De  Lisle,  a  gentleman 
eminent  for  his  literary  attainments  ;  a  man  rarely  in  society,  for 
it  had  but  few  attractions  for  him,  and  whose  tastes  led  him  to  the 
retirement  of  his  library  and  the  pursuit  of  his  profession.  In 
deed,  she  had  not  expected  him,  and  he  had  been  induced  to  come, 
from  his  high  regard  for  the  talents,  industry  and  integrity  which 
had  always  distinguished  Mr.  Smith  ;  and  it  was  to  manifest  these 
sentiments  that  he,  contrary  to  his  custom,  had  accepted  Mrs. 
Smith's  invitation. 

Mr.  De  Lisle  was  distinguished  for  symmetry  of  form — a  face 
perfect  in  its  profile — a  forehead  high  and  bold,  over  hanging  eyes 
of  deepest  hazel,  which  flashed  with  light  in  earnest  conversation. 
His  hair  was  dark,  thick,  and  naturally  inclined  to  curls — his  voice 
was  susceptible  of  every  inflection,  and  'at  all  times  rich  in  its 
tones ;  and  there  was  in  his  smile,  so  said  the  ladies,  something 
especially  fascinating.  Tall  and  erect,  he  wore  the  aspect  of  one 
conscious  of  his  high  superiority,  living  apart  from  the  pursuits 
and  passions  of  men,  in  the  serene  atmosphere  of  noble  thoughts 
and  aspirations.  Though  nearly  thirty-five  years  of  age,  he  was 
still  unmarried,  and  an  object  of  special  interest  to  ladies  of  a 
particular  age ;  in  fact,  ladies  of  all  ages  felt  themselves  flattered 
by  his  attentions.  The  Van  Tromps,  to  make  themselves  agree 
able  to  him,  had  attempted  to  be  witty  by  calling  his  attention  to 
the  mishaps  their  thoughtlessness,  if  not  their  malice,  had  been 
the  chief  cause  of  inflicting  on  the  party. 

Mr.  De  Lisle  listened  very  coolly,  and  showed  his  disapproba 
tion  by  leaving  them  and  addressing  himself  to  Mrs.  Smith,  who 
saw  this  movement  with  the  sincerest  satisfaction.  She  received 
Mr.  De  Lisle  with  quiet  courtesy ;  and  when  he  attempted,  as 
he  did  rather  awkwardly,  some  commonplace  compliment  on  the 
splendor  of  her  rooms  and  of  her  party,  she  looked  her  thanks, 
and  at  once  avowed  her  deep  consciousness  of  the  cause  of  the 
merriment  evinced  by  the  Van  Tromps,  and  expressed  her  grati 
tude  for  the  kindness  and  forbearance  of  her  guests  generally. 
Her  looks  were  eloquent;  and  the  grace  and  melody  of  the  voice 
were  not  unfelt ;  and  he  was  flattered  by  the  frankness  and  con- 


22  PETER  SCHLEMIHL. 

fidence  with  which  she  treated  him.  He  found  he  was  address 
ing  a  sensible  woman,  whose  fine  sense  and  admirable  self-pos 
session,  (and,  let  it  be  whispered,  whose  apparent  trustfulness  had 
flattered  his  self-love,)  so  charmed  him,  that  he  retained  his  place 
near  her  till  supper  was  announced.  He  retired  immediately 
after  supper ;  but  in  doing  so,  said  in  a  low  tone  of  voice,  "  that  he 
should  soon  do  himself  the  pleasure  of  calling  on  her,  when  he 
could  gratify  his  own  wishes  without  infringing  on  the  rights  of 
others,  as  he  feared  he  had  done  on  this  evening." 

Many^of  the  guests  had  expressed  to  each  other  their  admira 
tion  of  their  charming  hostess,  and  asked  where  did  she  get  man 
ners  so  rarely  attained  in  their  perfection,  even  in  the  circles  in 
which  they  are  best  appreciated. 

Now  Mrs.  Smith  was  born  in  a  country  village,  and  was  an 
only  child  of  honest  and  industrious  parents,  who  were  possessed 

of  a  fine  farm  in .  She  was  ever  indulged,  and  had  been 

educated  to  dance  and  to  sing  by  those  strolling  amateurs  of  these 
city  accomplishments,  who  come  like  comets  into  the  spheres  of 
our  country  villages,  and  having  starred  it  for  awhile,  depart 
never  to  reappear.  At  the  age  of  eighteen,  she  married  Mr.  Smith, 
then  a  young  man,  who  had  been  teaching  the  village  school  for 
six  months,  to  aid  him  in  completing  his  professional  studies. 
The  grace  and  loveliness  of  this  village  Dryad  proved  irresistible  ; 
and  yet  he  was  a  man  of  the  most  inflexible  firmness  of  purpose 
and  resolution  of  soul,  which  had  already  surmounted  great  diffi 
culties  in  the  attainment  of  the  objects  of  his  highest  hopes. 
Though  so  young  and  so  artless,  Julia  was  not  without  an  in 
stinctive  perception  of  the  power  of  grace,  as  well  as  of  the 

"infectious  sigh,  the  pleading  look, 
Downcast  and  low,  in  meek  submission  drest, 
But  full  of  guile ;" 

if  that  be  guile  which  incites  a  young  girl  to  provoke  the  love 
she  feels  in  the  throbbings  of  her  own  bosom. 

The  master  and  the  pupil  soon  became  unconsciously  engaged 
in  a  struggle  of  no  ordinary  strength  ;  he  to  overcome  his  desires 
by  his  ambition,  and  she  to  win  him  whom  all  the  girls  of  the 
village  acknowledged  as  the  handsomest  teacher  they  had  ever 
had,  though  he  was  so  silent  and  so  cold.  He  became  conscious 
of  her  fascination,  but  what  could  he  do  ?  There  was  no  safety 
but  in  flight,  yet  his  poverty  compelled  him  to  remain.  Twice 
a-day  did  this  syren  present  herself  before  him  as  a  scholar,  so 
quiet  and  so  gentle,  and  all  unconscious  of  her  power  over  him — 
so  thought  the  master.  Julia  on  her  part  became  conscious  of 
her  wish  to  please  him,  by  the  greater  care  she  took  in  her  dress, 


MRS.  SMITH'S  SCHOOL  DAYS.  23 

and  in  the  wearing  of  her  hair  in  rich  tresses,  which  were  beau 
tiful  in  contrast  with  her  white  neck  and  shoulders,  which  now 
naturally  became  visible  as  the  costume  of  winter  was  exchanged 
for  that  of  spring  and  summer.  She  found,  too,  that  her  pens 
required  mending  more  frequently  than  ever  before,  and  that  her 
sums  would  not  so  readily  prove  as  they  had  once  done  ;  indeed, 
her  difficulties  in  her  studies  seemed  to  increase,  and  she  became 
more  dependent  than  ever  on  the  aid  of  the  teacher. 

There  were  but  a  few  girls  older  than  herself,  and  the  feelings 
which  distracted  the  master  in  his  studies  stimulated  Julia  in  hers, 
so  that  she  was  ahead  of  all  others,  and  it  became  necessary  to 
hear  her  recitations  by  herself.  And  how  unequal  was  the  con 
test  !  The  master,  all  unconscious  of  her  wiles,  and  believing 
that  every  feeling  in  his  heart  was  the  sole  prompting  of  his 
wishes,  and  that  all  he  saw  so  attractive  was  the  loveliness  of 
girlhood  ;  but  so  it  was,  that  at  last  he  thought  the  pinnacle  of  the 
temple  was  not  to  be  compared  with  the  temptations  to  which  he 
was  subjected.  There  sat  this  sweet  girl,  just  ten  feet  from  him, 
on  a  little  bench,  and  at  a  table  apart  by  herself;  she  has  twice 
rubbed  out  a  slate  full  of  figures,  and  now  a  third  time  she  has 
tried  to  do  the  sum,  and  it  will  not  prove  ;  she  lays  down  her 
pencil — she  looks  perplexed ;  her  white  finger  is  running  over 
the  lines  on  the  slate ;  'tis  all  in  vain;  and  now  at  last  she  looks 
up  to  the  master  with  a  look  full  of  timidity,  helplessness  and 
entreaty.  What  can  he  do  but  go  at  once  to  her  aid  ?  The  blush 
is  on  her  cheek :  she  almost  whispers,  so  low  are  the  tones  of 
her  voice  :  "  It  won't  prove  !"  The  sum  was  in  the  rule  of 
Double  Position.  The  master,  on  looking  over  it,  at  once  disco 
vered  the  error.  Now,  when  speaking  to  Julia,  the  thunders  of 
the  pedagogue  were  hushed  into  the  softest  tones  of  his  voice :  it 
was  not  "  You  must  do  this  and  that,"  but  it  was  "Are  we  not 
wrong  here  ?"  "  Suppose  we  try  it  so  and  so."  On  this  occa 
sion,  he  said,  "  My  dear  Julia,  we  must  first  add  and  then  multi 
ply  ;  you  see  you  have  reversed  the  rule."  The  neck  of  Julia 
even  was  suffused  with  the  warmth  of  her  blushes,  for  it  was  the 
first  time  he  had  ever  used  an  endearing  appellative.  First,  it 
had  been  "  Miss  Jones,"  then  **  Miss  Julia  ;"  now  it  was  "  my 
dear  Julia."  Nor  was  the  master  entirely  unconscious  of  the 
bewitching  inflections  of  her  voice,  as  she  was  going  through  the 
verbs,  though  he  did  not  observe  that  all  her  errors  occurred  in 
those  rules  which  required  the  repetition  of  words,  which  the 
spirit  of  mischief  must  have  devised  and  put  there  for  the  very 
purpose  of  enticing  poor  pedagogues  ;  and  there  were  instants, 
too,  when  her  eye  would  gaze  upon  him,  as  if  the  rules  in  gram 
mar  were  hid  by  thoughts  which  lay  behind  them ;  and  when 


24  PETER  SCHLEMIHL. 

she  recovered  herself,  her  beautiful  eyes  fell  upon  a  bosom  so 
lovely,  as  irresistibly  to  carry  the  master's  heart  along  with  them. 

But  though  these  were  fearful  moments,  they  were  not  the  only 
ones.  While  all  the  boys  and  girls  were  out  at  play  during  the 
hour  of  recess,  there  sat  his  scholar  busy  with  her  slate.  He 
would  walk  up  and  down,  restless,  anxious  to  go  and  seat  him 
self  beside  her,  and  yet  determining  he  would  not ;  and  so  he 
would  go  to  a  window  to  look  out  on  the  sports  of  the  children ; 
but  the  least  rustle  of  her  dress,  or  the  creaking  of  her  shoe,  be 
came  to  him  more  audible  than  the  uproar  of  the  whole  school. 
In  spite  of  himself,  he  must  go  and  see  what  she  was  doing,  and 
whether  she  needed  his  aid,  as  it  must  be  said  she  often  did.  It 
was  no  task  to  seat  himself  beside  her ;  and  there  lay  her  soft 
white  hand  so  innocently  idle,  that  it  seemed  impossible  not  to 
take  it  up  and  to  press  it.  "  Now  this  is  something  gained," 
thought  the  young  girl,  and  it  was  ;  for  though  she  knew  nothing 
of  the  science  of  Mesmerism,  and  had  never  heard  of  Perkins* 
Tractors,  she  felt  that  there  lay  some  secret  power  in  hands 
when  pressed,  and  that  they  had  a  tendency  to  become  insepa 
rable. 

The  little  bench  was  very  long  for  one,  and  rather  short  for 
two ;  and  it  became  almost  a  matter  of  necessity  for  the  master, 
when  working  out  her  sums,  to  place  his  arm  round  the  waist  of 
his  pupil,  merely  to  get  it  out  of  the  way.  I  have  thought  it 
would  be  a  subject  worthy  of  some  scholar  capable  of  mastering 
so  occult  a  subject,  to  determine  whether  the  necessity  of  the 
tournure  has  not  its  final  cause  in  furnishing  the  support  which  is 
so  very  convenient  and  indeed  indispensable  at  such  times.  Cole 
ridge,  in  his  Table  Talk,  has  said  that  the  final  cause  in  furnishing 
man  with  a  nose  was  to  afford  him  the  pleasure  of  taking  snuff; 
but  I  must  leave  all  such  questions  to  those  astute  philosophers 
who  have  in  all  ages  delighted  in  the  creation  of  the  universe  out 
of  its  "Vestiges,"  and  who  have  written  huge  tomes  on  subjects 
which  have  less  to  do  with  human  happiness  than  either  of  the 
subjects  referred  to. 

Whatever  may  be  said  on  the  question  of  the  final  cause,  the 
tournure  has  certainly  a  wonderful  charm,  and  its  cause  and  in 
fluence  lie  in  the  very  depths  of  physiology  and  psychology.  In 
order  to  appreciate  this  assertion  in  all  its  verities,  we  should  be 
compelled  to  go  into  a  very  long  and  difficult  disquisition ;  but 
we  will  just  hint  at  one  or  two  things.  President  Day,  in  his 
work  on  the  Will,  lays  down  the  plain  proposition  "that  every 
change  implies  an  adequate  cause."  Now  though  the  modistes 
of  Paris  may  not  have  understood  the  reach  of  their  inventions, 
nor  the  adequate  cause  which  was  inducing  this  wonderful  change 


SCENES  AT  SCHOOL.  25 

in  the  curve  lines  of  a  lovely  lady,  yet  they  were  conscious  of  an 
impelling  necessity  which  found  its  solution  in  this  inimitable  in 
vention.  We  deem  this  necessity  to  be  the  desire  to  attain  the 
beau  ideal  of  female  loveliness.  Now  Miss  CATHARINE  BEECHER, 
in  a  very  able  article  on  Fatalism,  (Bib.  Rep.,  Oct.  '39,)  says : 
"  The  object  of  desire  does  force  and  impel,  as  a  producing  cause 
of  desire.  Men  can  no  more  help  desiring  objects  of  good  before 
their  minds  than  a  wedge  can  help  being  impelled  or  driven." 
So  long,  therefore,  as  its  power  is  felt  in  inducing  "desire"  in  the 
heart  of  man,  the  tournure  will  be  worn  with  increasing  witchery, 
until  men  shall  have  no  more  power  over  their  wills  than  a  wedge 
under  the  blows  of  Hercules.  Another  reason  for  its  perpetuity 
is  found  in  the  extreme  difficulty  of  finding  the  precise  form 
fitting  to  accomplish  these  ends  ;  but  now  our  Julia's  was  what 
the  late  Casimer  Perier  so  successfully  maintained  in  the  policy 
of  France,  the  juste  milieu,  so  rarely  reached  and  as  difficult  of 
due  adjustment  by  our  fashionables  as  is  a  "judicious  tariff"  by 
our  politicians.  To  return  to  the  master  and  his  pupil:  their 
sums  were  soon  solved ;  but  there  were  looks  which  remained 
unexplained  by  language,  very  much  to  the  pupil's  unhappiness. 

We  have  all  read  of  the  stupidity  of  the  ostrich  when  pursued, 
but  this  is  nothing  in  comparison  with  one  in  the  condition  of  the 
master.  All  the  school  were  lookers-on,  and  though  he  thought 
he  had  kept  the  secret  of  his  soul  in  its  deepest  recesses,  they  all 
knew  it,  and  watched  the  progress  of  the  courtship,  as  they  called 
it,  with  the  deepest  interest.  The  trees  were  climbed  which  grew 
near  the  school-house,  by  the  boys  ;  and  the  girls  with  the  utmost 
stealthiness  hoisted  up  the  little  children  to  the  windows  to  get  a 
peep,  and  so  report  the  progress  of  events.  Indeed,  the  whole 
village  was  in  a  state  of  intense  excitement  as  to  the  result. 

And  now  May  had  come  in  all  its  beauty,  its  softness,  and  its 
inspirations,  and  the  master  missed  his  scholar  from  her  seat ; 
and  though  the  day  was  bright  and  beautiful,  he  was  restless  and 
irritable.  Nor  did  he  recover  his  sobriety  of  manner  while  the 
week  was  thus  passing,  and  no  Julia  Jones.  He  inquired,  "  Is 
Miss  Jones  ill  ?"  No  one  had  seen  her  ;  no  one  knew  anything 
about  her.  He  fully  believed  he  should  see  her  at  meeting;  but 
her  seat  was  unfilled.  Until  now  he  had  restrained  himself  from 
ever  calling  at  her  father's  house  :  this  would  be  changing  their 
relations  ;  and  when  all  other  barriers  had  been  prostrated,  this 
stood  firm.  And  Miss  Julia  well  knew  it.  She  knew  his  term 
would  end  in  the  next  month,  and  something  must  be  done  to 
make  him  change  his  position.  The  master  said,  "  She  must  be 
ill !"  and  it  was  his  duty  to  go  and  inquire.  Prudence  said  "  No  I" 
but  his  heart  was  lightened  as  he  conceded  so  much  to  his  wishes 


26  PKTER  SCHLEMIHL. 

as  to  say  he  would  go  after  school.  He  set  out  as  soon  as  the 
school  was  dismissed  ;  and  yet  he  was  strangely  moved  on  his 
way  out  of  the  village  to  the  farm,  about  a  mile's  distance,  and 
sometimes  paused  as  if  to  return.  But  he  went  on  ;  and  reach 
ing  the  homestead,  he  knocked  at  the  door,  while  his  heart  was 
knocking  at  his  breast-bone ;  and  when  the  door  opened,  there 
stood  Julia,  dressed  in  all  the  attractiveness  which  Swiss  muslin 
can  be  made  to  wear— and  who  has  not  owned  its  power?  His 
look  spoke  his  joy  and  admiration,  and  her  smiles  and  welcome 
were  full  of  sweetness.  The  parents  received  him  quietly  and 
kindly;  and  he  talked  with  the  father  while  he  looked  at  the 
daughter,  as  she  sat  attentively  engaged  in  sewing  near  the  win 
dow.  She  looked  as  if  interested  in  all  they  spoke  of,  but  spoke 
not ;  her  time  was  not  yet.  The  father  was  a  sensible  man,  and 
glad  to  find  one  with  whom  he  could  converse  on  topics  ranging 
beyond  his  farm  ;  the  mother  was  occupied  with  the  supper,  which 
was  excellent,  and  so  admirably  conducted  that  he  felt  quite  at 
home  among  them. 

It  was  near  seven  when  they  rose  from  the  supper-table.  The 
air  was  soft  and  warm  ;  the  moon,  near  the  full,  was  seen  ascend 
ing  through  the  trees,  and  in  the  west  lay  heaps  of  crimson  clouds. 
Julia,  stepping  out  on  the  green,  pointed  to  a  hill  near  the  house, 
from  which  she  said  she  loved  to  look  at  these  beautiful  sunsets. 
It  was  as  natural  as  it  was  necessary  for  the  master  to  invite  his 
pupil  to  show  him  the  spot.  She  threw  a  slight  shawl  over  her 
arm,  and  with  her  pretty  white  bonnet  held  by  the  strings,  was 
ready  in  a  moment  to  go.  They  reached  the  hill ;  the  scenery 
was  beautiful ;  but  beyond  was  a  bolder  hill,  and  before  this  was 
ascended,  the  twilight  had  faded  away,  and  the  moon  and  stars 
were  shining.  It  was  certainly  a  very  dangerous  position  to  be 
placed  in,  and  the  master  should  have  thought  of  it  at  the  time  ; 
but  he  did  not,  for  he  was  talking  of  the  stars  ;  the  discoveries  of 
Herschel ;  the  nebular  theory  of  La  Place  ;  of  the  binary  stars, 
and  stars  with  complementary  light,  and  of  the  glorious  Universe, 
which,  though  so  vast  and  magnificent,  was  yet  all  unconscious 
of  its  grandeur  ;  "  this,"  said  he,  "is  the  prerogative  of  the  Soul ; 
and  though  they  (he  and  Julia  !)  were  but  as  atoms  in  its  in 
finity,  yet  they  could  comprehend  the  Creator."  It  is  certain  he 
was  very  eloquent,  and  Julia  seemed  as  if  she  had  been  follow 
ing  his  flight  with  untiring  attention  ;  and  looking  up  to  the  man 
in  the  moon,  who  took  his  usual  liberty  of  casting  his  brightest 
beams  into  the  sweet  face  so  fondly  gazing  upon  his,  and  shed 
ding  a  flood  of  light  upon  her  white  dress,  which  looked  as  if 
made  of  threads  of  silver,  in  tones  soft  and  sweet,  she  said:  "I 


COURTSHIP  OF  MR.  SMITH.  27 

wonder  if  the  beings  who  inhabit  these  worlds  above  us  are  as 
bright  and  beautiful  as  we  picture  them  ?' 

She  paused  ;  and  I  will  venture  to  say  that  the  Earl  of  Rosse, 
with  his  famous  telescope,  if  he  had  at  that  instant  taken  in  the 
range  of  the  nebulae  in  the  Sword  of  Perseus,  would  not  have 
seen  anything  half  so  bright  as  the  face  of  this  lovely  girl.  The 
master,  quite  beside  himself,  exclaimed,  "  Nothing  in  heaven  can 
be  more  beautiful  than  the  angel  I  hold  in  my  arms !"  And  follow 
ing  the  admirable  rules  given  by  Hamlet  to  the  players,  "  he  suited 
the  action  to  the  word  and  the  word  to  the  action,  and  so  o'er- 
stepped  not  the  modesty  of  nature." 

Now  if  any  of  my  fair  readers  should  think  the  modesty  of 
Julia  was  impinged  upon,  and  that,  being  alone  on  that  "  heaven- 
kissing  hill,"  she  cried  out  to  the  stars  for  help,  I  can  assure  them, 
that  though  the  stars  once  fought  in  their  courses  against  Sisera, 
and  if  there  be  any  truth  in  the  theory  of  Pythagoras,  caused  sad 
discord  in  the  harmonies  of  heaven,  they  went  on  singing  and 
shining,  undisturbed  by  any  outcry,  which  was  the  last  thing  Julia 
thought  of  making.  Indeed,  I  have  been  assured  by  some  young 
friends  of  mine,  who  were  assisting  Professor  Olmstead  in  some 
observations  at  the  Observatory  of  Yale,  that  they  all  remarked  at 
the  time,  that  the  stars  were  winking  at  each  other  very  know 
ingly  ;  and,  moreover,  that  that  good-natured  gentleman,  the  man 
in  the  moon,  wore  even  a  more  smiling  aspect  than  usual.  We 
shall  not  go  on  with  the  scene.  It  opened  with  the  master's  ac 
customed  energy  and  earnestness.  This  much  is  certain,  they 
did  not  return  till  near  nine  o'clock  ;  a  very  late  hour,  thought  the 
parents,  for  their  only  child  to  be  out  in  the  night  air  ;  and  when 
their  steps  were  heard,  they  were  very  slow.  At  the  gate  the 
master  took  his  leave  of  Julia,  who  entered  the  house  with  a 
buoyant  step  and  beaming  countenance,  though  she  said  she  was 
weary,  and  would  immediately  retire — and  did  so. 

The  next  afternoon  the  master  came,  avowed  his  love  for  Julia, 
and  asked  their  consent  to  an  immediate  union.  Her  parents, 
taken  by  surprise,  asked  for  some  months'  delay,  but  the  master 
could  brook  no  such  delay.  They  then  appealed  to  Julia,  to 
whom  so  great  a  step  must,  they  were  sure,  require  time  for 
thought;  but,  like  most  young  ladies  similarly  situated,  she  had 
been  thinking  a  great  while  ;  and  though  she  did  not  share  in  the 
eagerness  of  the  master,  and  felt  a  real  shrinking  from  the  con 
summation  of  her  own  wishes,  yet,  as  most  young  ladies  do,  took 
a  very  common-sense  view  of  the  subject — **  It  must  come  sooner 
or  later;  it  would  be  wisest  and  safest  and  best ;  there  would  be 
no  slips  between  the  cup  and  the  lip;  she  should  be  settled  for 
life,"  and  so  she  reconciled  to  herself  and  her  loving  parents  their 


28  PETER  SCHLEMIHL. 

compliance  with  the  wishes  of  the  master.  So  soon  as  the  pre 
parations  could  be  made,  they  were  married  :  and  Mr.  Smith  felt, 
perhaps,  more  truly  than  ever  did  Mark  Anthony  in  the  arms  of 
the  fatal  Cleopatra,  that  if  he  had  lost  the  world,  he  was  content 
to  lose  it. 

But  soon  the  necessity  of  effort  led  Mr.  Smith  to  the  city  of 
Babylon  the  Less,  leaving  his  beautiful  wife  with  her  parents 
until  he  could,  in  some  way,  provide  for  her.  He  was  eminently 
successful  in  obtaining  business  in  the  Broadway  of  that  great  city. 
Here  his  tact  and  energy  soon  wrought  wonders,  and  the  shop 
became  the  favored  resort  of  the  fashionables  of  that  city.  For 
tune  seemed  ready  to  repay  him  for  the  sacrifices  Ambition  had 
made  to  Love.  His  young  wife  soon  rejoined  him,  and  they  be 
came,  at  first,  the  happy  tenants  of  a  small  house  in  L'Esperance 
Place. 

The  only  gift  received  from  her  parents  was  a  large  and  beau 
tifully-bound  family  Bible,  in  which,  on  those  most  interesting  of 
all  leaves  to  a  young  married  couple  in  that  best  of  books,  and 
which  usually  separate  the  Old  and  New  Testaments,  under  its 
proper  head,  was  inscribed,  in  the  fair  and  flowing  hand  of  her 
husband,  the  marriage  of  John  Smith  to  Julia  Jones,  June  20, 
18 — .  This,  then,  was  the  sole  library  with  which  Mrs.  Smith 
commenced  her  married  life ;  and  shall  I  tell  the  whole  truth  ? — 
it  was  a  book  she  never  opened,  except  to  read  the  entry  already 
quoted;  she  would  then  musingly  turn  over  to  the  next  page,  and 
think  of  the  names  and  the  order  of  succession  it  would  best  please 
her  to  see  filling  up  its  two  blank  columns — blanks,  alas  !  never 
to  be  filled. 

At  that  time,  it  did  not  suit  Mr.  Smith  to  form  any  family  ac 
quaintances,  being  wholly  absorbed  in  business  ;  and  Mrs.  Smith 
did  not  desire  the  society  of  such  as  would  have  been  her  friends. 
She  felt  her  husband  would  rise  to  affluence,  and  she  was  willing 
to  bide  her  lime.  As  she  had  little  or  no  society,  she  sought, 
from  such  books  as  she  could  obtain,  to  acquaint  herself  with  the 
character  and  conduct  of  the  circles  into  which  she  hoped,  one 
day,  to  be  admitted.  But  this  she  found  a  difficult  task ;  such 
conflicting  presentations  of  society  led  her  into  mazes  of  diffi 
culty;  and  she  was  left  to  herself  to  find  out  the  true  from  the 
false.  Some  authors,  she  found,  had  written  a  la  stairs,  whose 
scenes  were  of  necessity  the  mere  creations  of  fancy  ;  and  those 
writers  who  were  members  of  the  circles  they  pictured,  seem  to 
delineate  society  as  it  should  be  rather  than  as  she  felt  it  was. 
Still,  however,  she  gleaned  some  hints,  and  these  she  treasured 
up  ;  and,  of  all  things,  sought  to  acquire  that  serenity  of  features 
so  eminently  possessed  by  Talleyrand,  and  could  almost  have 


THE  GENTLEMAN  IN  BLACK.  29 

been  willing  to  have  the  Duchess  de  Broglie's  test  applied  to  her 
self,  could  she  but  have  had  his  powers  of  endurance. 

Thus,  while  Mr.  Smith  was  absorbed  in  the  pursuit  of  wealth, 
his  wife  was  fully  occupied  in  her  studies  of  society.  While 
thus  intensely  occupied,  all  unconsciously  to  themselves,  they  lost 
their  young  love.  Not  that  they  did  not  love  each  other  as  well 
as  most  married  folks  do,  but  they  knew  not  (and  how  common 
is  the  mistake  !)  that  love  cannot  live  on  the  common  courtesies 
of  life,  and  the  discharge  of  every-day  duties.  No  child  comes 
into  the  world  with  a  constitution  so  susceptible  to  change  as 
Young  Love ;  so  liable  to  chills  and  fevers,  which  finally  induce 
a  fatal  decline.  Their  Young  Love  did  linger  on,  and  for  a  while 
wore  his  pretty  looks,  and  his  sweet  smiles  were  renewed  from 
time  to  time  for  a  day  or  two  together;  but  then  he  was  sadly 
neglected,  and  from  want  of  proper  care  and  nutriment,  was 
stone-dead  a  long  time  before  they,  either  of  them,  found  it  out, 
Alas!  "  Love  breathes  in  the  first  sigh,  and  expires  with  the  first 
kiss." 

"  Tis  true,  'tis  pity,  and  pity  'tis,  'tis  true." 


CHAPTER  II. 

The  Gentleman  in  Black  enters  the  saloon  to  take  leave  of  Mrs.  Smith — Mise 
ries  consequent  of  lamps  that  burn' dim,  and  candles  that  melt — The  Gen 
tleman  in  Black  removes  the  spots  from  the  carpets  of  Mrs.  Smith — Mes 
merizes  the  mirror — Scene  in  the  house  of  GAI.LUS — A  Roman  banquet 
exhibited  to  Mrs.  Smith  in  the  mirror — The  Gentleman  converses  with 
Mrs.  Smith  on  magic  and  the  "  Black  Art'' — Origin  of  Idol  worship — Con 
tinuation  of  the  scenes  in  the  house  of  GALLUS. 

SUCH  of  my  readers  as  had  the  patience  to  accompany  me 
through  my  first  chapter,  will  appreciate  the  importance  of  her 
first  party  to  Mrs.  Smith,  and  the  sinking  in  her  very  soul  with 
which  she  recalled  the  last  words  of  her  husband.  "  Was  it  pos 
sible  that  they  would  prove  his  fixed,  his  fast  and  unalterable 
purpose  ?"  She  well  knew  his  aversion  to  all  her  plans,  and  the 
reluctance  with  which  he  had  been  induced  to  comply  with  her 
wishes ;  and  she  threw  herself  on  one  of  her  sofas  with  a  pang 
of  agony  at  the  fearfulness  of  his  decision,  and  repeated  the  words 
in  tones  of  the  utmost  grief,  **  Lamps  which  never  burn  dim  !" 


30  PETER  SCHLEMIHL. 

No  such  thing  could  exist;  and  yet,  on  this  sole  condition  rested 
the  hopes  of  her  life.  At  one  moment  she  thought  he  must  and 
would  relent;  and  then  she  remembered  but  too  well  the  stern 
and  iron  will  which  had  never  but  once  relinquished  its  hold  of  a 
purpose  fully  formed  ;  and  she  feared,  as  she  recollected  the  in 
tense  struggle  she  had  witnessed  in  him  on  that  evening,  that  this 
was  fixed  as  fate. 

While  thus  absorbed  in  thought,  she  was  surprised  to  see  the 
very  GENTLEMAN  IN  BLACK,  whom  the  unfortunate  PETER  SCHLE 
MIHL  had  met  some  years  since,  enter  the  room,  with  his  hat  in 
his  hand,  and  with  an  air  of  the  utmost  humility  and  deference; 
and  who,  bowing  very  low,  approached  her,  and  in  tones  of  voice 
singularly  soft  and  winning,  begged  her  pardon  if  he  had  intruded 
upon  her;  but  he  said  he  could  not  leave  the  house  without  ten 
dering  his  thanks,  and  expressing  his  high  satisfaction  with  the 
pleasure  he,  in  common  with  her  large  circle  of  friends,  had  re 
ceived  from  the  very  splendid  party  to  which  she  had  invited 
them. 

44  Indeed,  sir,"  said  the  lady,  "  I  was  not  aware  of  having  had 
the  pleasure  of  meeting  you  here  this  evening.  You  will  forgive 
me  if  I  have  failed  in  any  attentions  which  would  have  made 
your  visit  agreeable." 

"  My  dear  madam,"  replied  the  Gentleman  in  Black,  "  I  assure 
you  I  am  quite  at  home  in  Babylon  the  Less,  and  was  happy  to 
meet  so  many  of  my  friends  here  to-night.  It  has  been  to  me  a 
most  agreeable  evening." 

"  I  fear,"  said  Mrs.  Smith,  with  a  tone  of  sadness,  "  you  are 
the  only  one  of  my  guests  who  can  say  as  much ;  to  me  it  has 
been  anything  but  what  I  could  have  wished." 

"  Indeed !"  said  the  Gentleman,  with  an  expression  of  sincerest 
sympathy  ;  "  what  change  could  you  have  wished  made  ?" 

"  See,"  said  the  lady,  pointing  to  the  coverings  of  her  sofas 
and  chairs,  and  to  her  carpets,  all  spotted  with  spermaceti,  and 
then  to  the  lamps,  burning  dimly,  and  sending  up  their  hateful 
columns  of  smoke  through  blackened  chimneys ;  "  and  my  rooms, 
too,  have  been  heated  to  suffocation,  through  the  stupidity  of  the 
servant  having  the  furnaces  in  his  charge ;  so  that  altogether  it 
has  been  to  me  a  series  of  mishaps,  and  a  sad  chapter  of  acci 
dents." 

"  My  dear  lady,"  said  the  Gentleman  in  Black,  "  you  take  all 
these  matters  too  much  to  heart.  I  assure  you  I  have  found  it 
very  difficult,  indeed,  so  to  regulate  the  heat  of  my  furnaces  as 
to  satisfy  the  demands  of  my  guests ;  and  it  is  the  commonest  of 
all  complaints  with  them,  that  my  rooms  are  somewhat  over 
heated.  As  to  lighting  saloons,  too,  I  have  often  heard  my  friends 


HIS  ADMIRATION  OF  MRS.  SMITH.  31 

say,  that  they  were  quite  in  the  dark,  notwithstanding  all  my 
pains-taking  on  this  score.  Indeed,  the  subject  of  illumination 
has  always  been  one  of  the  utmost  difficulty,  and  upon  which  a 
vast  amount  of  time  and  money  has  been  bestowed  ;  if  you  have 
failed,  it  was  but  an  every-day  occurrence.  Rather,  I  should 
say,"  said  he,  smiling,  "  an  every-night  occurrence." 

The  lady  smiled  too,  but  it  was  at  his  poor  attempt  to  be  wit 
ty,  and  thought,  "  He  is,  no  doubt,  a  very  simple-minded  man." 
He  rose,  looked  at  the  spots  on  her  sofas,  and,  to  her  infinite  sur 
prise,  held  his  hands  for  a  moment  over  them,  when  they  rapidly 
disappeared,  as  if  they  had  been  sublimed  by  a  heated  iron.  See 
ing  her  astonishment,  he  said,  quietly,  that  "  it  was  very  easy  to 
remove  such  stains,"  and  then  proceeded  to  obliterate  those  upon 
her  carpet;  and  having  done  so,  he  again  seated  himself  on  a 
lounge  near  to  her,  and  asked  her  if  he  could  in  any  way  be  use 
ful  to  her.  He  had  risen  wonderfully  in  the  lady's  estimation, 
by  his  skill  in  the  way  of  spots,  and  she  thought,  "  He  is,  without 
doubt,  a  very  sensible  man  ;"  so  readily  do  we  change  our  minds, 
when  we  are  conciliated  in  the  way  which  best  suits  us. 

Mrs.  Smith  asked  him  "  Whether  there  did  not  exist  lamps 
which  never  went  out ;  that  she  had  read  of  such  things  as  hav 
ing  been  once  known;  and  if  they  really  existed,  there  was  no 
thing  she  possessed  that  she  would  not  give  to  procure  them." 

The  Gentleman  in  Black  looked  at  her  with  a  fixed  and  admir 
ing  gaze,  which  lighted  up  his  eyes  till  they  shone  like  diamonds ; 
and  then,  casting  his  looks  upon  the  carpet,  he  seemed  lost  in 
thought.  The  lady,  it  must  be  told,  in  this  most  truthful  of  all 
narratives,  was  a  little  flattered  by  the  impression  she  had  made 
upon  this  gentleman,  and  saw,  with  secret  satisfaction,  the  strug 
gle  with  which  he  was  recovering  his  senses.  He  soon,  however, 
found  himself  able  to  look  up,  and,  with  his  usual  benignity  of 
smile,  said: — "It  is,  indeed,  related,  that  such  lamps  have  been 
once  known,  but  they  were  only  used  in  tombs,  and  the  light 
was  at  best  but  sepulchral,  and  entirely  unsuited  to  your  saloons  ; 
moreover,  'tis  said,  they  are  at  once  extinguished  by  the  in 
troduction  of  the  open  air;"  and  then,  rising  with  an  air  of  dis 
tinguished  courtesy,  he  begged  her  to  walk  to  the  mirror  at  the 
end  of  the  room,  in  which  the  lady  had  so  recently  seen  herself, 
saying,  "  I  will  show  you  some  of  the  methods  of  illumination 
which  have  been  adopted  by  the  circles  of  good  society  in  other 
countries  and  in  other  times." 

"  Indeed  !"  said  Mrs.  Smith ;  "  and  how  can  you  do  this  ?" 

"  It  is  very  readily  done,"  he  replied,  "  by  those  who  understand 
the  process."  So  saying,  they  walked  towards  the  mirror,  which 
was  one  plate  of  glass,  reaching  from  near  the  ceiling  to  the  floor, 


32  PETER  SCHLEMIHL. 

standing  between  the  windows,  unobscured  by  the  drapery, 
which  was  hanging  loose  from  the  rings.  The  Gentleman  in 
Black  placed  Mrs.  Smith  in  front  of  the  glass,  and  again  his  whole 
soul  was  flashing  in  his  face,  as  he  gazed  upon  her  beauty.  She 
saw  it,  and  saw,  too,  that  there  she  stood  alone;  there  was  no  re 
flection  of  the  gentleman  beside  her.  She  looked  her  surprise ; 
but  he  said,  "  It  is  never  my  wish  to  come  in  contrast  with  such 
loveliness!"  The  lady  smiled  her  acknowledgments,  and  now 
thought,  "  He  is  really  a  very  sensible  man."  The  Gentleman  in 
Black  then  bowing,  stepped  before  her,  and  breathed  upon  the 
mirror,  which  suddenly  became  obscured  as  with  a  vapor,  which, 
however,  instantly  disappeared. 

As  the  vapor  cleared  away  from  the  face  of  the  mirror,  Mrs. 
Smith  found  herself,  as  it  were,  looking  directly  into  a  long  sa 
loon,  most  splendidly  furnished.  There  stood  costly  tables  of 
cedar,  with  pillars  of  ivory  supporting  their  massive  orbs.  In 
one,  the'wood  was  like  the  beautiful  coat  of  a  panther;  in  a  se 
cond,  the  spots  being  more  regular  and  close,  imitated  the  tail  of 
the  peacock  ;  and  in  a  third,  it  resembled  the  luxuriant  and  tan 
gled  leaves  of  the  apium,  each  of  them  more  beautiful  and  valua 
ble  than  the  other.  On  the  side-boards,  which  stood  around  the 
walls,  were  displayed  gold  and  silver  plate  ;  amber  vessels,  in  one 
of  which  was  a  bee,  and  in  another  an  ant  had  found  its  transpa 
rent  tomb ;  beakers  of  the  most  antique  shape,  to  which  the 
names  of  their  former  possessers  gave  them  value  and  historical 
importance;  and  vessels  of  Corinthian  bronze,  whose  worn  han 
dles  announced  their  antiquity,  together  with  two  large  golden 
drinking-cups,  on  one  of  which  were  engraved  the  scenes  of  the 
Iliad,  and  on  the  other,  those  of  the  Odyssey.  Beside  these, 
were  smaller  beakers  and  bowls,  composed  of  precious  stones, 
either  made  of  one  piece,  and  adorned  with  reliefs,  or  of  several 
cameos  united  by  settings  of  gold. 

The  lady  gazed  with  intense  admiration,  and  begged  to  know 
what  scene  was  this  before  her.  The  Gentleman  in  Black  re 
plied,  that  it  was  a  saloon  in  the  house  of  GALLUS,  one  of  the 
courtiers  of  Augustus,  in  Rome.  The  workmanship  and  wood 
of  these  tables  were  so  infinitely  superior  to  anything  she  had 
seen,  that  she  inquired  of  the  Gentleman  in  Black,  if  they  were 
indeed  of  wood.  He  answered  that  they  were,  and  that  the  price 
of  them  was  enormous ;  and  pointing  to  one,  he  invited  her  to 
examine  it,  adding,  that  for  a  table  of  the  same  description,  Cicero 
had  given  a  million  of  sesterces.* 

*  Sesterces  are  usually  reckoned  at  l^d. 


SCENE  IN  ROME.  Od 

"  And  pray,"  said  the  lady,  "  and  how  much  would  that  be  in 
dollars  and  cents  ?" 

"  About  twenty  thousand  dollars." 

The  lady  looked  incredulously  at  the  Gentleman  in  Black. 
He  saw  it,  and  said  : — 

"  The  splendor  of  these  mansions  is  certainly  very  great,  but 
then  they  are  the  plunder  of  the  world.  This  Gallus  was  en 
riched  by  the  spoils  of  Egypt,  of  which  he  was  once  the  su 
preme  governor.  But  wait ;  I  will  show  you  yet  more  of  this 
house." 

Again  he  breathed  on  the  mirror,  and  the  scene  changed. 
Around  a  table,  covered  with  cedar  wood,  stood  dinner-couches 
of  bronze,  inlaid  with  tortoise-shell,  the  lower  part  decked  with 
white  hangings  embroidered  with  gold,  and  the  pillows  stuffed 
with  the  softest  wool.  Upon  these  seats,  cushions,  covered  with 
silken  stuff,  were  laid,  to  separate  the  places  of  the  guests.  There 
were  reclining  at  the  Triclinium,*  six  gentlemen  in  splendid  dress 
es,  whose  togas  were  woven  of  the  whitest  and  softest  Milesian 
wool,  and  worn  over  the  left  shoulder,  so  as  to  fall  far  below  the 
knee,  and  covered  with  its  folds,  which  gradually  became  more 
wide,  the  whole  arm  down  to  the  hand.  The  right  arm  remained 
at  liberty,  as  the  voluminous  garment  was  passed,  at  its  broadest 
part,  under  the  arm,  and  then  brought  forward  in  front.  The 
folds  were  arranged  in  an  ingenious  fashion,  being  laid  obliquely 
across  the  breast,  so  that  the  well-rounded  sinus^  almost  reached 
the  knee,  and  the  lower  half  ended  below  the  knee,  while  the  re 
maining  portion  was  thrown  on  the  left  shoulder,  and  hung  down 
on  the  arm  in  a  mass  of  broad  and  regular  folds.  The  hair  of 
these  Romans  was  dressed  with  care,  and  arranged  in  elegant 
locks,  which  were  perfumed  with  cassia,  narde  and  balsams.  The 
lady  remarked  this,  and  the  Gentleman  in  Black  said  the  costli 
ness  and  the  amount  which  was  used  by  these  gentlemen  of  these 
precious  unguents,  were  trifling  in  comparison  with  what  was  con 
sumed  by  the  ladies  of  those  days. 

It  appeared  that  the  guests  had  been  but  recently  seated,  as 
slaves  were  in  the  act  of  taking  off  the  sandals  of  each,  and  of 
fering  them  water  in  silver  bowls  for  their  ablutions,  at  the  same 
time  the  slaves  were  entering  with  trays,  on  which  were  the 
dishes  composing  the  first  course.  In  the  centre  of  the  plateau, 
ornamented  with  tortoise-shell,  stood  an  ass  of  bronze,  on  either 
side  of  which  hung  silver  panniers,  filled  with  white  and  black 
olives  ;  on  the  back  of  the  beast  sat  a  Silenus,  from  whose  skin 

*  Triclinium — so  called  because  three  couches  were  spread  around  the  table, 
for  the  guests  to  recline  upon. 

•j-  Sinus — the  folds  of  the  toga  falling  in  front. 
3 


34  PETER  SCHLEMIHL. 

the  most  delicious  sauce  flowed  upon  the  breast  of  the  hog,  a 
favorite  dish  in  those  days.  Near  this,  on  two  silver  gridirons, 
delicately-dressed  sausages,  beneath  which  Syrian  plums,  mixed 
with  the  seed  of  the  pomegranate,  presented  the  appearance  of 
glowing  coals.  Around  stood  silver  dishes,  containing  asparagus, 
radishes,  and  other  productions  of  the  garden,  flavored  with  mint 
and  rue,  and  with  Byzantine  muria,  and  dressed  with  snails  and 
oysters,  while  fresh  ones  in  abundance  were  handed  about.  The 
guests  proceeded  to  help  themselves  to  what  each,  according  to 
his  taste,  considered  the  best  incentive  of  an  appetite.  At  the 
same  time,  slaves  carried  about,  in  golden  goblets,  the  mulsum, 
composed  of  Hymettian  honey  and  Falernian  wines. 

They  were  still  occupied  in  tasting  the  several  delicacies,  when 
a  second  and  smaller  tray  was  brought  in,  and  placed  in  a  vacant 
spot  within  the  first,  to  which  it  did  not  yield  in  point  of  singu 
larity.  In  an  elegant  basket  sat  a  hen,  ingeniously  carved  out  of 
wood,  with  outspread  wings,  as  if  she  were  brooding.  Straight 
way  entered  two  slaves,  who  began  searching  the  chaff  which 
filled  the  basket,  and  taking  out  some  eggs,  distributed  them  among 
the  guests.  These  eggs,  on  being  broken,  were  found  to  be  made 
of  dough,  and  that  a  fat  fig-pecker  was  hidden  in  the  yolk,  which 
was  seasoned  with  pepper.  Many  jokes  were  made,  and  while 
the  guests  were  eating  the  mysterious  eggs,  the  slaves  again  pre 
sented  the  honey-wine.  When  no  one  desired  more,  a  sign  was 
given  ;  the  slaves  removed  the  gustatorium.* 

"  And  is  this  a  Roman  banquet?  It  seems  to  me  a  dejeuner-a- 
la-fourchette"  remarked  the  lady. 

The  face  of  the  Gentleman  in  Black  wore  a  smile  which  per 
plexed  the  lady  not  a  little,  while  he  replied  :  "  These  gentlemen, 
with  all  their  refinement,  have  never  felt  the  need  of  forks.  With 
them  it  is  as  with  the  vulgar  of  our  own  days,  'fingers  before 
forks.'  "  Mrs.  Smith  expressed  also  her  surprise  at  seeing  the 
guests  wiping  their  fingers  with  bits  of  bread  ;  but  the  Gentleman 
in  Black  assured  her  that  napkins  were  of  a  modern  invention, 
and  that  at  the  present  day  among  the  Persians,  the  same  method 
of  cleaning  the  fingers  that  she  saw,  was  still  practised. 

A  slave  now  wiped  the  table  with  a  purple  cloth  of  coarse  linen, 
and  two  Ethiopians  again  handed  water  for  washing  the  hands. 
Boys,  wearing  green  garlands,  then  brought  in  two  well-gypsumed 
amphorse,  with  a  label  hanging  round  them,  whereon  might  be 
read,  written  in  ancient  characters,  the  consul  for  the  year  when 
the  wine  was  bottled.  These  vessels  were  carefully  cleaned  of 
the  gypsum  and  the  corks  extricated;  the  wine  was  then  cautiously 

*  Gustatorium  consisted  of  dishes  designed  to  excite  the  appetite. 


A  ROMAN  FEAST.  *  35 

poured  into  the  silver  sieve,  which  was  placed  ready  to  receive 
it,  which  was  again  filled  with  fresh  snow,  and  then  mixed  accord 
ing  to  the  master's  directions,  in  the  richly  embossed  vase,  and, 
dipping  a  golden  ladle  therein,  filled  the  amethyst-colored  glasses, 
which  were  distributed  among  the  guests  by  the  rest  of  the  boys. 

This  operation  was  scarcely  finished,  before  a  new  tray  was 
placed  on  the  table,  containing  the  first  course  of  the  banquet, 
which,  however,  by  no  means  seemed  to  answer  the  expectations 
of  the  guests.  A  circle  of  small  dishes,  covered  with  such  meats 
as  were  to  be  met  with  only  at  the  tables  of  plebeians,  was  ranged 
around  a  slip  of  natural  turf,  on  which  lay  a  honey-comb.  A 
slave  carried  round  bread  in  a  silver  basket,  and  the  guests  were 
preparing,  although  with  evident  vexation,  to  help  themselves  to 
chick-peas  and  small  fish,  when,  at  a  sign  given  by  the  host,  two 
slaves  hurried  forward  and  took  off  the  upper  part  of  the  tray, 
under  which  a  number  of  dishes,  presenting  a  rich  selection  of 
dainties,  were  concealed.  These  were  ring-doves  and  field-fares, 
capons  and  ducks,  mullets  of  three  pounds'  weight,  and  turbot, 
and  in  the  centre  a  fatted  hare,  which  by  means  of  artificial  wings 
was  changed  into  a  Pegasus.  The  Gentleman  in  Black  remarked 
that  mullet  was  one  of  the  favorite  and  most  expensive  of  fishes, 
increasing  in  value  according  to  the  size,  one  weighing  six  pounds 
having  been  sold  for  eight  thousand  sesterces.* 

"  Dear  me !"  said  the  lady ;  "  what  would  these  folks  say  to  such 
a  supper  as  mine  !" 

On  the  disappearance  of  the  first  course,  much  conversation 
seemed  to  be  kept  up  by  the  party.  But  no  long  interval  was 
allowed  for  talking  ;  for  four  slaves  soon  entered,  bearing  the  se 
cond  course,  which  consisted  of  a  huge  boar,  surrounded  with 
eight  sucking  pigs,  made  of  sweet  paste  by  the  baker,  and  surpris 
ingly  like  real  ones.  On  the  tusks  of  the  boar  hung  little  bas 
kets,  woven  of  palm  twigs,  and  Syrian  and  Theban  dates.  A 
carver,  resembling  a  jfiger  in  full  costume,  now  approached  the 
table,  and  with  an  immense  knife  commenced  cutting  up  the  boar. 
In  the  mean  time  the  boys  handed  the  dates,  and  gave  to  each 
guests  one  of  the  pigs  as  apophoreta.\  On  a  given  signal,  the 
slaves  produced,  to  the  astonishment  of  the  company,  a  fresh 
ferculem,  which  contained  a  vast  swine,  cooked  exactly  like  the 
boar,  which  looked  as  if  the  cook  had  forgotten  to  disembowel 
the  animal.  The  cook  appeared,  with  a  troubled  mien,  and  seizing 
a  knife,  and  having  carefully  slit  it  open  on  both  sides,  gave  a  sud 
den  jerk,  when,  to  the  agreeable  surprise  of  the  guests,  a  quantity 
of  little  sausages  of  all  kinds  tumbled  out. 

*  8000  sesterces,  about  $120. 

f  Apophoreta  were  gifts  taken  home  by  the  guests. 


36  PETER  SCHLEMIHL. 

% 

The  lady  looked  at  the  Gentleman  in  Black  with  some  surprise, 
and  said:  "  You  do  not  mean  that  I  should  believe  that  this  is  a 
true  representation  of  a  Roman  banquet  ?" 

"  Certainly  I  do,"  he  replied,  "  and  is,  in  all  particulars,  sus 
tained  by  the  best  authorities  in  Roman  literature ;  it  is  the  re 
production  of  Professor  Becker,  one  of  the  ripest  scholars  of 
Germany." 

"  Indeed !"  said  the  lady ;  "  I  was  fearful  it  was  a  work  of  magic 
and  the  black  arts." 

The  Gentleman  in  Black  looked  for  a  moment  somewhat  dis 
turbed,  and  said  he  was  surprised  that  a  lady  of  her  fine  sense 
should  believe  in  the  existence  of  any  such  agencies,  which  igno 
rance  had  attributed  to  learning  treasured  up  in  black-letter  books, 
the  type  once  adopted  in  England,  and  still  used  by  the  Ger 
mans. 

"  And  is  that  the  origin  of  the  phrase  '  black  art?'  I  am  very 
much  obliged  to  you  for  correcting  me  in  so  vulgar  an  error," 
said  the  lady. 

The  Gentleman  in  Black  smiled  very  graciously,  and  observed, 
"  that  everything  wore  the  aspect  of  magic  to  the  ignorant,  and 
that  even  Faust's  Bibles  had  once  been  attributed  to  the  devil, 
who,  it  was  universally  believed,  was  no  great  friend  to  the  Bible 
Society,  and  could  hardly  be  thought  to  favor  the  circulation  of 
a  book  which  spoke  so  slightingly  of  himself.  But,  my  dear 
Madam,  in  this  age  of  enlightenment,  \vhen  the  wonders  of  Mes 
merism  are  revealing  the  scenes  of  the  worlds  above  and  around 
us,  and  when  the  revelations  of  Svvedenborg  have  so  many  to 
believe  them,  can  it  be  at  all  wonderful  that  the  power  of  reviving 
the  scenes  of  a  past  age  is  also  attainable  ?" 

Mrs.  Smith  said,  "  Nothing  could  be  more  probable :  I  have 
myself  seen  clairvoyants,  whose  perceptions  transcended  all 
powers  of  conception,  and  have  witnessed  water  and  rings  mag 
netized  by  being  breathed  upon ;  but  I  have  never  before  seen  a 
mirror  magnetized ;"  and  she  renewed  her  expressions  of  satis 
faction  with  the  scenes  she  had  witnessed. 

"  But,"  said  she,  looking  very  earnestly  at  the  Gentleman  in 
Black,  "  must  I  believe  that  all  I  have  heard  and  read  of  magic 
and  alchemy  are  to  be  classed  as  vulgar  errors?" 

"  Certainly  not.  There  is  no  subject  which  has  so  long  and 
constantly  occupied  the  thoughts  of  men  as  alchemy  and  its  cor 
relatives.  Volumes  have  been  exhausted  in  its  investigation,  and 
in  teaching  the  true  methods  of  attaining  its  power  over  the 
worlds  of  the  Seen  and  the  Unseen— the  worlds  of  Matter^and  of 
Spirit.  I  had  supposed,  in  using  the  term  '  Black  Art,'  yclfe  had 


OF  ASTROLOGY,  ETC.  37 

reference  to  the  common  and  vulgar  idea  usually  conveyed  by 
such  an  expression." 

"  To  be  honest,  I  may  have  used  the  term  with  no  very  pre 
cise  meaning;  but  I  feel  interested  to  know  what  there  may  have 
been  included  in  the  terms  alchemy  and  magic,  especially  of 
magic,  of  which  we  have  so  many  glimpses,  even  in  the  Scrip 
tures.  Will  you  not  gratify  me,  by  telling  where  these  impres 
sions  originated,  and  with  whom  ?" 

"  Won't  you  be  seated  ?"  said  the  Gentleman  in  Black,  rolling 
up  a  lounge  before  the  mirror.  Mrs.  Smith  thanked  the  Gentle 
man  in  Black  for  his  consideration  of  her  comfort,  and  said  she 
could  watch  the  mirror  while  she  listened  to  him,  which  she 
should  do  with  unfeigned  gratification. 

Whereupon  the  Gentleman  in  Black  expressed  his  high  sense 
of  her  courtesy,  and  took  a  seat  on  the  other  end  of  the  sofa. 

Mrs.  Smith  inquired,  "  What  do  you  call  the  correlatives  of 
alchemy  ?" 

"  These  are  Astrology,  Magic  and  Divination.  Man,  from  the 
earliest  times,  has  been  seeking  to  solve  the  enigmas  of  Life ;  to 
penetrate  the  veil  which  separates  him  from  the  Invisible  and  the 
Future.  And  though  the  great  masses  have  been  content  with 
things  as  they  find  them,  yet  the  gifted  few  have  felt  themselves 
imprisoned  by  the  Apparent,  and  sought  by  all  means  to  reach 
the  Real  and  the  Absolute." 

"  But  are  not  all  such  pursuits  worthless  and  vain  ?" 

"  By  no  means.  There  have  been  constantly  recurring,  in  the 
history  of  man,  phenomena,  which,  had  they  been  carefully  ob 
served,  would  have  solved  many  doubts  which  now  rest,  as  clouds 
and  darkness,  on  all  Such  subjects  of  human  hopes  and  desires. 
Lord  Bacon  has  said,  '  Men  ought  to  put  nature  to  the  torture,' 
and  so  reproduce  those  phenomena  which  have  been  by  the 
ignorant  regarded  as  the  monstrosities  of  nature  ;  and  had  such  a 
course  been  adopted,  we  should  not  now  be  groping  in  the  dark, 
but,  catching  at  the  threads  which  have  thus  from  time  to  time 
been  offered  them,  men  of  science  would  have  successfully  tra 
velled  and  explored  all  the  dark  labyrinths  of  their  being." 

"  Ah !  I  wish  they  had  done  so,"  said  Mrs.  Smith,  "  instead  of 
soaring  into  the  clouds  and  stars,  as  they  have  done." 

"  As  man,"  replied  the  Gentleman  in  Black,  "  in  the  progress 
of  time  lost  the  knowledge  of  GOD,  he  naturally  deified  those  ob 
jects  of  sense  which  were  to  him  the  sources  of  the  greatest  bless 
ings  ;  hence  the  worship  of  the  sun,  moon,  and  stars,  and  as  a 
necessary  result,  the  science  of  astrology.  Sir  William  Jones 
tells  us,  '  The  characters  of  all  pagan  deities  melt  into  each  other, 
and  at  last  into  one  or  two ;  the  whole  crowd  of  gods  and  god- 


38  PETER  SCHLEMIHL. 

desses  of  ancient  Rome  and  Hindostan,  mean  only  the  powers  of 
nature  ;'  and  the  higher  are  our  researches  into  the  mythology  of 
the  past,  the  purer  are  the  thoughts  found  of  GOD,  and  the  more 
certain  it  is  that  all  religious  ideas  spring  from  one  and  the  same 
fountain.  The  highest  form  of  Braminism  presents  the  idea  of 
GOD  as  the  Omnipresent  Being  in  all  its  purity,  eternity,  spirit 
uality  and  beatitude.  He  is  called  Bram  Atma — *  the  breathing 
soul."1  The  East  was  the  cradle  of  all  these  sciences,  as  of  all 
religions.  The  mythology  of  the  East  was  transferred  to  Egypt, 
and  as  has  been  shown  most  conclusively  by  the  labors  of  Sir 
George  Wilkinson,  it  was  transplanted  from  Egypt  into  Greece. 
The  Orphic  Hymns  are  found  to  contain  the  same  idea  of  GOD, 
creating  all  things  and  subsisting  in  all  things,  and  of  a  Trinity." 

"  A  Trinity  of  Gods  !  why  I  thought  this  was  a  discovery 
made  by  St.  Augustine." 

"No,  madam.  Orpheus  declares  expressly,  *  All  things  were 
made  by  a  coe'ssential  and  consubstantial  Trinity.'*  This  science 
of  astrology  took  its  rise  on  the  plains  of  Chaldea,  and  is  usually 
divided  into  natural  and  judicial  astrology.  Natural  astrology 
was  advocated  by  Sir  Robert  Boyle ;  who  held  that  all  physical 
bodies  are  influenced  by  the  heavenly  bodies  ;  an  idea  which  is 
still  perpetuated  in  some  of  our  almanacs,  which  contain  a  picture 
of  a  man,  surrounded  by  the  signs  of  the  zodiac." 

"  Yes,"  said  Mrs.  Smith,  "  I  have  often  seen  them  in  my 
childhood,  and  been  puzzled  to  guess  what  they  could  mean." 

"These  signs  were  called  the  'Houses  of  the  Heavens,'  and 
used  to  be  explained  by  the  following  lines,  which  have  long 
since  fallen  into  disuse  : 

'"THE  first  house  shows  life,  the  second  wealth  doth  give; 
The  third  how  brethren,  fourth  how  parents  live  5 
Issue  the  fifth;  the  sixth  diseases  bring; 
The  seventh  wedlock,  and  the  eighth  death's  sting; 
The  ninth  religion;  the  tenth  honor  shows; 
Friendship  the  eleventh,  and  the  twelfth  our  woes.' 

"  The  obligations  of  astronomical  science  to  the  study  of  as 
trology  have  always  been  acknowledged.  The  angles  and  aspects 
of  the  planets  were  noted,  and  their  climacterics,  as  they  were 
styled,  carefully  watched ;  and  this  is  a  phrase  still  in  vogue, 
when  we  speak  of  the  climacterics  of  life;  the  first  of  these 
was  the  seventh  year,  and  from  21  by  multiples,  as  21.  49.  56. 
63  and  84.  The  last  two  of  which  are  still  styled  the  grand  cli 
macterics  of  man." 

*  CUDWORTH,  vol.  ii.,  p.  92. 


OF  MAGICAL  ARTS.  39 

"And  is  there  nothing  in  this?"  inquired  Mrs.  Smith.  "I  had 
supposed  there  was;  and  is  this  another  of  my  vulgar  errors?" 

"  I  believe  there  is  no  reason  to  believe  the  recurrence  of  these 
years  are  more  fatal  than  any  other,"  replied  the  Gentleman  in 
Black ;  "  your  opinion  is  one  of  great  antiquity,  and  Aulus  Gellius 
says  it  was  borrowed  from  the  Chaldeans,  who  possibly  might 
have  received  it  from  Pythagoras,  whose  philosophy  turned  on 
these  coincidences  of  numbers,  and  who  imagined  an  extraordinary 
virtue  in  the  number  seven.  And  to  show  how  true  is  the  saying 
of  Dugald  Stewart,  that  *  opinions  are  like  tunes  of  a  barrel  organ, 
which  are,  after  the  lapse  of  centuries,  ever  recurring,'  it  is  upon 
these  coincidences  of  numbers  and  the  harmonies  of  the  musical 
scale,  presumed  to  have  been  discovered  and  elaborated  by  FOU 
RIER,  that  we  have,  in  our  days,  all  the  mysteries  of  man  and 
society  developed  to  the  wonder  and  admiration  of  his  followers. 
But  to  satisfy  you  in  what  good  society  you  are,  in  your  belief  of 
the  reality  of  climacterics,  let  me  tell  you,  that  Plato,  Cicero, 
Salmasius,  St.  Augustine,  St.  Ambrose,  and  Boethius,  are  all  of 
the  same  opinion  !" 

"  I  arn  much  obliged  to  yon,  sir,  for  restoring  me  to  my  self- 
complacency,"  said  Mrs.  Smith,  smiling  very  kindly  on  the  Gen 
tleman  in  Black.  "  But  tell  me  something  of  alchemy  ?"  The 
Gentleman  in  Black  bowed  his  acquiescence,  and  proceeded  to  say : 

"  The  wish  to  obtain  that  which  would  obviate  the  evils  of  life, 
and  give  man  the  wealth  which  is  so  slow  to  accumulate  by  the 
sweat  of  the  brow,  doubtless  gave  rise  to  this  science,  falsely  so 
called.  Scholars  have  had  various  opinions  of  its  origin.  Some 
have  said  that  Adam  was  the  first  of  all  alchemists. 

"Don't  you  think,"  said  Mrs.  Smith,  "the  moderns  have  sur 
passed  these  ancient  alchemists  ?" 

"  How  ?"  inquired  the  Gentleman  in  Black,  with  a  look  of 
surprise. 

"  Why,  our  alchemists  have  effected  the  same  objects  by  the 
conversion  of  paper  into  gold." 

The  Gentleman  in  Black  smiled  his  acknowledgments,  and 
said  "  it  was  indeed  a  conversion  never  dreamed  of  in  their  phi 
losophy." 

"You  have  told  me  nothing  about  magical  arts"  said  Mrs. 
Smith,  with  a  smile;  "can't  you  restore  to  me  my  belief  that 
they  too  are  somewhere  existent  in  the  labyrinths  of  nature?" 

"  Magic  and  magical  arts,''  jeplied  the  Gentleman  in  Black, 
"  have  so  wide  a  meaning,  that  I  fear  it  would  weary  you  if  I 
were  to  attempt  to  say  half  that  could  be  told  on  a  subject  which 
has  exhausted  the  lives  of  so  many  devotees  in  all  ages  of  the 
world." 


40  PETER  SCHLEMIHL. 

"  But  certainly  magic  has  the  sanction  of  the  Scriptures  for  its 
existence,  and  these,  you  know,  are  books  believed  by  all  Chris 
tians  to  be  inspired,  and  if  so,  must  be  true.  Moses  had  all  but 
been  outdone  by  those  of  Egypt." 

"  Yes,  these  magicians  have  been  a  stone  of  stumbling,  and  a 
rock  of  offence  in  all  ages ;  and  the  opinion  of  St.  Austin  is,  that 
which  is  generally  believed,  that  they  were  genuine  miracles  and 
real  imitations  of  those  of  Moses."  The  Gentleman  in  Black 
continued : 

"  The  word  magic  once  carried  along  with  it  a  very  innocent, 
and,  indeed,  a  very  laudable  meaning;  being  used  merely  to 
signify  the  study  of  wisdom ;  but  as  men  devoted  themselves  to 
divination  and  sorcery,  the  term  magic  in  time  became  odious,  and 
was  only  used  to  signify  what  you  have  just  now  called  '  the  black 
arts;'  which  were  supposed  to  consist  in  dealing  with  the  devil 
and  departed  souls ;  but  this  you  will,  of  course,  believe  was  the 
war  which  ignorance  always  carries  on  against  superior  know 
ledge." 

44  Oh,  certainly,"  said  Mrs.  Smith.  "  But  when  are  we  to 
know  what  is  true  in  all  these  studies,  which  have  thus  far  been 
so  fruitless  of  results  in  the  direction  in  which  they  have  been 
prosecuted?" 

"  When  man  shall  have  gone  forward,  in  the  progress  of  coming 
centuries,  to  a  right  knowledge  of  the  machinery  of  his  own  mind, 
we  may  hope  that  the  careful  observance  of  all  the  occurring 
idiosyncrasies  of  men,  and  the  placing  of  nature  on  the  rack  of 
scientific  investigation,  much  that  is  obscure,  and  more  that  is  now 
unknown,  will  be  discovered ;  for,  as  Lord  Bacon  has  well  said, 
1  As  navigation  was  imperfect  before  the  use  of  the  compass,  so 
will  many  secrets  of  nature  and  art  remain  undiscovered,  without 
a  more  perfect  knowledge  of  the  understanding,  its  uses,  and  ways 
of  working.'  ' 

"Lapse  of  centuries!"  said  Mrs.  Smith.  "I  had  thought  the 
world  would  come  to  an  end  after  the  next  thousand  years." 

"And  why?" 

"  Because  the  seventh  of  the  series  of  thousands  of  years 
would  have  then  been  completed.  Is  not  this  the  universal  be 
lief?" 

"  It  may  be,  but  if  so,  it  is  an  universal  error." 

"  When  will  the  world  come  to  an  end  ?" 

"I  am  not  a  diviner,  astrologer,  alchemist,  or  even  a  conjuror, 
and  therefore  can't  say;  but  if  I  were  to  take  the  liberty  of  the 
country,  I  could  guess." 

"  Well,  as  you  guess !" 


THE  ROMAN  FEAST.  41 

"  When  the  last  lump  of  coal  shall  have  been  consumed,  and 
the  last  nail  is  driven,  it  will  be  in  good  time  to  burn  it  up." 

"Look!"  exclaimed  Mrs.  Smith,  whose  attention  was  now 
suddenly  attracted  to  the  ceiling  and  to  a  large  silver  hoop,  on 
which  were  ointment-bottles  of  silver  and  alabaster,  silver  garlands 
with  beautifully  chiselled  leaves,  circlets,  and  other  trifles,  which 
descended  upon  the  table,  and  were  shared  as  apophoreta  among 
the  guests.  In  the  mean  time  the  dessert  had  been  served,  wherein 
the  baker  gave  a  specimen  of  his  skill.  In  addition  to  innumerable 
articles  of  pastry,  there  were  artificial  muscles,  field-fares  filled 
with  dried  grapes  and  almonds,  and  many  other  things  of  the 
same  kind.  In  the  middle  stood  a  well-modelled  Vertumnus, 
who  held  in  his  apron  a  great  variety  of  fruits.  Around  lay 
sweet  quinces  stuck  full  of  almonds,  and  having  the  appearance 
of  sea-urchins,  with  melons  cut  in  various  shapes.  While  the 
party  was  praising  the  fancy  of  the  baker,  a  slave  handed  round 
tooth-picks,  made  of  the  leaves  of  the  mastich-pistacho  ;  and  the 
host  invited  the  guests  to  assist  themselves  to  the  confectionary 
and  fruits  with  which  the  god  was  loaded.  The  guests  seemed 
astonished  by  the  gifts  of  Vertumnus  at  this  season,  for  it  was 
now  December,  when  one  of  them  stretched  across  the  table  and 
seized  the  inviting  apples  and  grapes,  but  drew  back  in  affright, 
when,  as  he  touched  them,  a  stream  of  saffron  discharged  from 
the  fruit,  besprinkling  his  hand.  The  merriment  became  general, 
when  several  of  the  guests  attempted  cautiously  to  help  them 
selves  to  the  mysterious  fruit,  and  each  time  a  red  hot  stream 
shot  forth.  And  now  two  musicians  with  flutes  entered  the 
saloon,  accompanied  by  a  young  and  surprisingly  beautiful  dan- 
sense.  The  circles  of  couches  were  extended,  and  she  advanced 
to  the  side  which  was  thus  opened.  A  boy  took  the  cithara,  and 
struck  the  strings  to  the  accompaniment  of  the  flutes.  The 
cithara  then  ceased  to  be  played  upon,  and  the  maiden  took  some 
hoops,  and  as  she  danced  to  the  flutes,  whirled  them  into  the  air, 
and  caught  them  one  after  the  other  as  they  fell,  with  remarkable 
skill.  More  and  more  hoops  were  handed  to  her,  till  a  whole 
dozen  were  hovering  aloft  betwixt  her  hands  and  the  hall-ceiling  ; 
and  the  grace  of  her  movements,  together  with  the  dexterity  she 
evinced,  elicited  the  applause  of  the  spectators :  a  large  hoop  was 
now  brought  in,  set  all  around  with  pointed  knives.  It  was 
placed  upon  the  ground.  The  damsel  recommenced  dancing,  and 
threw  a  summersault  right  into  the  centre  of  the  hoop,  and  then 
out  again,  repeating  this  feat  repeatedly.  Mrs.  Smith  became  so 
excited,  lest  the  lovely  creature  should  by  accident  be  injured, 
that  she  cried  out,  covering  her  eyes  with  her  hands  : 

"  It  is  too  much  !     I  can't  endure  it  longer  !" 


42  PETER  SCHLEMIHL. 

The  Gentleman  in  Black  smiled,  and  said"  it  was  rather  a  tame 
sight  after  all,  to  the  ladies  and  gentlemen  of  Rome,  who  were 
accustomed  to  witness  the  dreadful  conflicts  of  the  gladiators, 
struggling  for  life  in  the  arena  of  the  Coliseum ;  and  that  he  had 
seen  lovely  ladies  with  their  betting-tablets  opened  before  them, 
gazing  with  delight  as  their  chances  of  winning  increased,  and 
inflamed  with  anger  when  they  saw  the  wounded  wretch  upon 
whom  their  bets  were  pending,  turning  his  beseeching  look  to 
ward  the  audience,  while  his  antagonist  waited  for  the  signal  to 
determine  whether  he  should  die  or  live ;  and  then  the  pretty 
hands  of  these  fair  ladies,  with  their  thumbs  turned  down,  were 
as  numerous  as  those  with  their  thumbs  upturned  ;  and  yet  the 
turning  of  them  decided  a  question  of  life  and  death." 

"  I  am  sure,"  said  Mrs.  Smith,  "  the  world  is  very  much  better 
now  than  it  was  in  those  days,  though  now  it  may  be  sometimes 
true,  *  that  rogues  must  hang  that  jury-men  may  dine.' ': 

"  Undoubtedly,"  said  the  Gentleman  in  Black,  with  earnestness  ; 
"  there  never  existed  a  society  so  innocent  and  pure  as  that  which 
graces  the  circles  of  Babylon  the  Less,  and  which  I  have  had  the 
pleasure  to  meet  in  your  mansion  this  evening." 

Mrs.  Smith  sighed,  thinking  that  this  was  rather  overstrained, 
and  the  Gentleman  in  Black,  to  qualify  his  language,  said,  that 
"  doubtless  there  were  some  exceptions,  but  then  there  were  spots 
on  the  sun." 

The  mention  of  the  word  "spots"  induced  Mrs.  Smith  to  cast 
an  anxious  look  around  her  rooms,  to  see  if  the  spots  on  her 
splendid  sofas  were  still  there,  and  she  was  relieved  to  find  they 
had  all  disappeared.  The  amiable  Gentleman  in  Black  said  "  his 
especial  object  in  mesmerizing  the  mirror,"  and  he  slightly 
smiled  as  he  spoke,  "  was  to  show  her  the  methods  of  illumina 
tion  adopted  by  the  Romans:"  and  breathing  once  more  upon  the 
face  of  the  glass,  the  mirror  now  presented  the  sight  of  another 
saloon  in  which  the  lamps  were  lighted,  and  which  hung  from  the 
marble  panels  of  the  room.  Upon  the  polished  table,  between 
the  tapestried  couches,  stood  an  elegant  candelabrum,  in  the  form 
of  a  stem  of  a  tree,  from  the  winterly  and  almost  leafless  branches 
of  which  four  two-flamed  lamps,  emulating  each  other  in  beauty 
of  shape,  were  suspended.  Olher  lamps  were  liung  by  chains 
from  the  ceiling,  which  was  richly  gilt  and  inlaid  with  ivory, 
in  order  to  expel  the  darkness  of  night  from  all  parts  of  the 
saloon.  A  number  of  costly  goblets  and  larger  vessels  were  ar 
ranged  on  two  side-boards,  and  on  one  of  them  a  slave  was  just 
placing  another  vessel  filled  with  snow,  together  with  its  sieve, 
and  on  the  other  was  the  steaming  caldarium,*  containing  water 
*  Caldarium — a  vessel  <br  heating  water. 


THE  ROMAN  FEAST.  43 

kept  constantly  boiling  by  the  coals  in  its  inner  cylinder,  in  case 
any  of  the  guests  should  prefer  the  calda,  the  drink  of  winter,  to 
the  snow-drink. 

By  degrees  the  same  guests  came  in  and  took  their  places  in 
the  same  order  as  before  on  the  triclinium.  On  a  signal  from 
the  host,  a  slave  placed  upon  the  table  the  dice-board,  of  terebin- 
thus  wood,  the  four  dice,  made  from  the  knuckles  of  gazelles, 
and  the  ivory  turret-shaped  dice-box.  Slaves  at  the  same  time 
brought  chaplets  of  dark  green  ivy  and  of  blooming  roses,  which 
were  selected  and  worn  by  the  guests. 

"  And  did  these  Romans  so  soon  commence  gaming  ?"  asked 
Mrs.  Smith. 

"  No,  madam,"  replied  the  Gentleman  in  Black ;  "  they  are  now 
about  to  throw  the  dice  to  decide  who  shall  be  the  king  for  the 
night,  whose  duty  it  is  to  decide  how  much  water  shall  be  mixed 
with  the  wine  about  to  be  drank ;  for  though  those  were  not  the 
days  of  temperance  societies,  yet  there  were  then  no  such  mix 
tures  and  distillations  as  are  now  used  ;  and  though  Anacreon 
sang  of  wine  and  its  inspirations,  it  was  not  unmixed  with  water." 

Mrs.  Smith's  attention  was  fixed  on  the  lamps,  and  the  degree 
of  light  obtained  from  them.  There  seemed  no  lack  of  skill  and 
invention  in  giving  grace  to  their  forms,  yet  they  were  nothing 
more  than  vessels  containing  oil,  out  of  the  end  of  which  came  a 
wick  which  was  lighted  ;  the  consequence  was  that  the  beautiful 
ceiling  soon  became  obscured  and  blackened,  and  the  guests 
showed  evidently  that  their  breathing  was  oppressed  with  smoke. 
She  admired  the  beauty  of  the  candelabrums,  but  these  gave  no 
light,  and  in  no  way  relieved  the  anxiety  she  felt  on  the  subject 
of  "  lamps  which  never  would  burn  dim."  She  observed  the  slaves 
whose  duty  it  was  to  pick  up  the  wicks  and  trim  the  lamps,  and 
which,  with  this  constant  watching,  were  but  poor  contrivances, 
even  when  compared  to  the  most  common  lamp  she  had  in  use 
on  that  evening.  She  asked  the  Gentleman  in  Black  "  if  this  was 
the  best  method  of  illumination  then  known  ?"  He  replied  "  that 
tallow  and  wax  were  both  used,  but  that  the  methods  of  making 
them  were  so  imperfect  that  they  were  never  used  in  the  palaces 
of  the  great ;  indeed  they  were  but  rushes  smeared  over  with  wax 
or  tallow." 

The  guests  were  in  the  midst  of  their  cups,  when  the  Gentle 
man  in  Black  advanced  and  gave  a  long  expiration,  which  suf 
fused  the  face  of  the  mirror  with  vapor  for  a  moment  or  more, 
and  turning  around  to  Mrs.  Smith,  said  :  "  If  I  were  not  fearful 
of  wearying  you,  I  would  show  you  other  scenes,  and  of  a  later 
age." 

"I  beg  you  will,"  said  the  lady. 


44  PETER  SCHLEMIHL. 


CHAPTER  III. 

Scene  in  Mr.  Smith's  library — The  library  described — The  Gentleman  mag 
netizes  a  glass  of  wine  for  Mrs.  Smith — Colloquy  upon  the  party — Mrs. 
Smith  relates  the  visit  of  Mrs.  Tripp  and  her  daughter  Adela — The  in 
trigues  of  fashionable  life — Of  Mrs.  Smith's  concert  during  the  evening — 
Adela  Tripp's  singing ;  its  effect  upon  Mr.  Winterbottom — The  Gentleman's 
opinion  on  the  ladies'  fashions ;  the  origin  of  the  present  dress — relates  an 
anecdote  of  Mr.  Jefferson's  levee — Criticism  of  the  Gentleman  upon  ser 
mons — Sir  Robert  Boyle's  meditations  cited — Of  eating  oysters  raw. 

THE  mirror  cleared  up  but  partially,  and  the  images  appeared 
dimly  on  its  surface.  The  Gentleman  in  Black  said,  "  he  regret 
ted  to  state,  that  his  ability  to  magnetize  the  glass  had  been  some 
what  exhausted,  but  if  Mrs.  Smith  would  be  pleased  to  wait  a 
little,  he  should  soon  recover  his  power  to  do  so." 

"  Certainly,"  said  Mrs.  Smith  ;  "  will  you  not  take  a  glass  of 
wine  ?" 

The  Gentleman  in  Black  bowed  acquiescence. 

"Walk  into  the  library,"  said  Mrs.  Smith;  "  I  think  we  shall 
find  some  there."  So  saying  she  led  the  way  to  the  library,  a 
large  room  opening  into  the  saloon,  and  which  was  admirably 
fitted  up;  the  rich  carved  cases  of  oak  were  filled  with  shelves 
loaded  with  books,  and  ornamented  with  the  busts  of  those  whose 
works  were  living  beneath  them. 

As  he  entered,  the  Gentleman  in  Black  stood  surprised  at  the 
size  of  the  room,  which  was  lighted  by  lustres,  and  had  been 
used  during  the  evening  for  card-playing.  On  the  long  table  in 
the  centre  were  some  bottles  of  wine  and  goblets.  After  care 
fully  scanning  the  shelves,  he  seated  himself  on  one  of  the  luxu 
rious  lounges  near  the  table,  and  said,  in  a  low  tone,  as  if  to  him 
self:  "  Agreeable  to  nature,  and  according  to  art."  The  quick  ear 
of  the  lady  caught  the  words,  and  she  begged  the  gentleman  to 
tell  her  what  they  meant. 

"  My  dear  madam,"  he  replied,  "that  is  a  question  much  more 
easy  to  ask  than  to  answer.  I  saw  them  for  the  first  time  on  the 
sign  of  a  shoer  of  horses  in  the  metropolis.  It  struck  me  as 
somewhat  enigmatical,  as  applied  to  shoeing  horses,  but  when 
applied  to  your  books,  it  may  be  interpreted,  'The  heaviest  at  the 
bottom  and  the  lightest  at  the  top ;'  which  is  as  natural  as  the 
froth  upon  a  can  of  beer.  Lord  Bacon  has  said,  'The  tendency 


MR.  SMITH'S  LIBRARY.  45 

of  works  of  worth  is  to  sink  in  the  flood  of  time  which  bears  up 
only  that  which  is  trivial  and  worthless.'  " 

44  I  was  not  aware,  sir,  that  any  such  profound  considerations 
lay  hid  in  the  remark  which  seemed  to  me  at  first  somewhat  dis 
paraging ;  but  I  presume  what  you  say  is  all  very  true." 

"  Where  could  you  have  found  these  books  ?"  inquired  the  Gen 
tleman  in  Black.  "They  stand  here  arrayed  like  contending 
armies  ;  and,  madam,  if  they  should  ever  fall  to  loggerheads,  the 
conflict  would  be  more  direful  than  the  '  battle  of  books'  de 
scribed  by  Dean  Swift;  for  then  it  was  for  the  right  of  property; 
but  this  would  be  what  Mr.  Canning  so  greatly  deprecated  as  the 
4  war  of  opinion.'  Here,"  said  he,  pointing  to  the  right  side  of 
the  room,  "  are  the  Fathers  and  Doctors  of  the  Catholic  Church: 
and  here,"  going  up  to  the  cases,  and  running  his  hand  over  a  se 
ries  of  folios  and  quartos,  "is  the  Macedonian  phalanx  of  English 
divines ;"  reading  at  the  same  time,  the  names  of  Baxter,  Bun- 
yan,  Howe,  Flavel,  and  other  great  names  of  the  Puritans,  add 
ing,  in  a  tone  almost  a  whisper,  "  There  were  giants  in  the  land 
in  those  days." 

44  My  dear  sir,"  said  Mrs.  Smith,  "  I  do  not  know  any  of  them, 
for  I  never  opened  a  single  volume.  We  had  this  room  to  fur 
nish,  and  an  agent  of  my  husband  was  in  Spain  when  some  mo 
nasteries  were  suppressed,  and  as  he  was  authorized  to  purchase 
books  for  us,  he  bought  the  entire  library  ;  and  on  his  return  to 
England,  finding  a  library  about  tio  be  sold  of  a  distinguished  En 
glish  scholar  and  divine,  he  made  a  similar  purchase,  and  sent 
them  over,  and  they  have  been  but  recently  received  and  placed 
on  the  shelves.  Coming  from  such  sources,  I  presumed  that  they 
were  all  most  respectable  and  learned  authors.  They  are  cer 
tainly  very  antiquated  and  imposing  in  the  outward  appearance, 
and  very  fitting  for  a  place  in  our  library.  Will  you  not  take  a 
glass  of  wine  ?"  said  Mrs.  Smith,  going  to  the  table  and  filling  a 
goblet. 

44  With  all  pleasure, "said  the  Gentleman  in  Black, seating  him 
self  again  ;  and  pouring  out  another  goblet  full  of  wine,  he  con 
tinued  the  conversation  ;  and  while  he  did  so,  he  held  his  fingers 
on  the  goblet  which  he  had  filled,  drawing  them  slowly  down  its 
sides  ;  and  continuing  to  do  so,  Mrs.  Smith's  attention  was  at 
tracted  to  his  hand,  which  was  thin  and  sinewy,  and  his  fingers 
singularly  long  and  slender,  with  nails  beautifully  formed,  and 
then,  too,  so  very  strong  and  long,  that  she  could  not  but  be  sur 
prised  at  their  novelty,  and  which  would  have  done  honor  to  a 
mandarin.  After  having  finished  these  manipulations,  he  very 
politely  handed  her  the  goblet,  and  taking  up  his  own,  said  : 
44  Shall  I  have  the  pleasure  of  drinking  a  glass  of  wine  with  you  ?" 


46  PETER  SCHLEMIHL. 

Mrs.  Smith,  though  no  member  of  a  Total  Abstinence  Society, 
never  drank  wine,  and  was  about  to  decline,  but  thinking  that  to 
do  so  would  not  be  courteous,  carried  the  glass  to  her  lips,  and 
sipping  it,  was  surprised  at  the  exquisite  flavor  of  the  wine  ;  and 
unconsciously  to  herself,  had  drunk  nearly  half  of  the  wine.  The 
Gentleman  in  Black  begged  her  to  finish  the  glass,  and  pushed  it 
toward  her  to  the  edge  of  the  table ;  she  put  forth  her  hand  to 
replace  it  on  the  table,  and  unexpectedly  to  herself  the  cup  upset, 
at  which  the  Gentleman  in  Black  looked  at  her  inquiringly,  and 
with  an  air  of  surprise,  at  what  was  equally  a  matter  of  astonish 
ment  to  herself.  He  offered  to  refill  the  glass,  but  she  positively 
declined,  and  so  it  was  relinquished.  She  was  surprised  to  find 
the  effects  of  the  wine  were  so  delightfully  exhilarating:  all  the 
trials  and  mortifications  of  the  evening  were  lightened  from  her 
heart ;  she  was  buoyant  and  happy ;  and  though  she  had  never 
seen  the  Gentleman  in  Black  before,  she  felt  the  most  perfect  and 
unrestrained  freedom  in  his  presence. 

The  Gentleman  in  Black  renewed  the  conversation  by  saying, 
"  He  had  been  very  much  gratified  during  the  evening  by  meeting 
with  so  many  of  his  friends,  and  somewhat  amused  by  some  of 
the  incidents  which  had  come  under  his  observation." 

"  Oh  !"  said  Mrs.  Smith,  clapping  her  hands  to  her  ears,  "  how 
my  ears  burn  !  I  am  sure  I  am  at  this  very  moment  used  up  at 
more  firesides  than  one.  How  cosily  my  dear  friends  are  now 
sitting  by  their  firesides  discussing  all  the  contre-temps  of  this 
party  of  mine  ;  and  some  ready  to  cut  my  acquaintance  for  the 
losses  they  have  sustained  !  How  little  of  happiness  there  is, 
after  all,  in  giving  or  going  to  these  great  crowds  ;  and  yet  how 
much  of  management  there  is  in  showing  off  fine  dresses  by  some, 
and  fine  girls  by  others  !' 

"  Certainly,"  said  the  Gentleman  in  Black  ;  "but  for  the  mo 
tives  presented  by  vanity  or  ambition,  few  would  be  willing  to 
meet  all  the  sacrifices  and  expenses  incident  to  these  routs ;  this 
is  especially  true  of  ladies." 

"All  this  is  so  new  to  me,"  said  Mrs.  Smith,  "  that  I  may  not 
as  yet  perfectly  understand  how  all  these  motives  are  brought  to 
bear ;  but  in  one  case  at  least  which  occurred  this  evening,  I  was 
let  in  behind  the  scenes,  and  compelled  against  my  will,  to  enact 
a  part." 

"  Do  let  me  hear,"  said  the  Gentleman  in  Black  ;  "  for  if  it 
be  a  pleasure  to  talk  over  a  party  by  the  several  guests  at  their 
firesides,  it  is  no  less  so,  certainly,  at  your  own.  It  may  be  com 
pared  to  making  a  survey  of  a  battle-field  after  the  contest  is 
over." 

"  Oh  dear  me !  I  fear  the  sick  and  wounded  are  so  many,  and 


47 

the  laurels  which  have  been  so  unexpectedly  conferred,  have  come 
in  so  questionable  a  shape,  that  few  have  retired  satisfied  with 
their  conquests  ;  the  exception  to  the  general  discontent,"  con 
tinued  Mrs.  Smith,  "must,  I  am  sure,  be  Mrs.  Tripp  and  her 
daughter. 

"  Some  days  after  my  invitations  were  out,  Mrs.  Tripp's  car 
riage  stopped  at  my  door.  She  sent  up  her  card,  and  begged  to 
see  me  if  possible  that  morning.  Accordingly  she  was  admitted. 
Had  she  been  the  friend  of  ten  years'  standing,  I  could  not  have 
been  greeted  with  more  kindness  and  devotion.  She  had  received 
our  card,  was  delighted  with  the  pleasure  of  making  my  acquaint 
ance,  and  would  have  called  long  since,  but  had  just  returned  to 
town  ;  had  heard  of  me  from  several  of  her  friends,  and  was 
sure  we  should  hereafter  be  the  best  of  friends.  She  looked 
curiously  around  my  parlors,  and  begged  me  to  show  my  rooms, 
all  which  evidently  surprised  her  by  the  costliness  of  their  fitting 
up.  Having  completed  her  survey,  and  returned  to  our  seats,  she 
was  profuse  in  her  compliments  at  the  '  taste  and  elegance,'  as 
she  was  pleased  to  say,  with  which  my  rooms  were  furnished. 
She  seemed  to  me  a  very  bustling  busy-body,  who  could  but  ill 
conceal  her  curiosity  under  the  exterior  of  fine  manners  ;  and 
after  saying  some  more  of  these  agreeable  nothings,  she  said, 
with  an  air  of  the  greatest  frankness  and  affection, 

"  *  Adela  and  Josephine  would  certainly  do  themselves  the  plea 
sure  of  being  present  at  my  coming  party,  which  she  said  would 
(for  she  had  been  told  so  by  everybody),  combine  all  the  fashion 
of  the  city.  Indeed,  they  felt  the  greatest  interest  in  its  success; 
and  Adela  had  actually  been  taking  lessons  every  day  for  these 
last  two  weeks  of  Mons.  Gilbert,  of  some  exquisite  gems  from 
the  new  opera  of  Rossini,  of  which  she  had  the  only  copies,  and 
which  came  by  the  last  steamer  ;  they  had  never  been  sung  in 
Babylon  ;  and  though  she  does  n't  say  so,  my  dear  Mrs.  Smith, 
yet  I  am  sure  she  will  sing  them,  if  you  should  wish  her  to  do  so  ; 
she  is  such  a  good  child  !  Ah  !  you  must  and  will  love  her  ;  she's 
so  perfectly  naive  ;'  and  without  taking  breath,  the  lady  asked  me, 
*  Which  will  be  your  music  room,  so  that  I  may  tell  her  the  size 
of  it?'  Whereupon  I  showed  her  the  room  in  which  our  musical 
friends  were  assembled  this  evening.  '  Oh  !  it's  just  the  thing  ! 
just  the  right  size  !' — but  coming  up  to  me  in  a  very  winning  way, 
she  said,  '  Don't  you  think  the  drapery  hurts  the  effect  of  the 
voice  ?'  I  told  her  it  did  not  occur  to  me  ;  but  that  my  curtains 
were  up,  and  as  they  were  necessary  to  complete  the  finish  of 
the  room,  they  must  remain.'  *  Certainly,  my  dear  ;  certainly, 
if  they  are  fixtures,'  said  Mrs.  Tripp  ;  *  but  Adela  is  so  particu 
lar  ;  she  has  the  greatest  objection  to  any  thing' she  hesitated, 


48  PETER  SCHLEMIHL. 

and  changed  the  construction  of  her  sentence  by  saying — *  which 
looks  like  a  show-off.  You  must  tell  her,  my  dear  Mrs.  Smith, 
that  there  will  be  no  attempt  of  the  sort  made — won't  you  ?  But 
I'm  sure  you  will ;  I  need  not  say  a  word  more  ;  but ' 

"  She  paused,  and  I  assured  her  *  if  Miss  Adela  would  be  will 
ing  to  sing  the  pieces  she  had  spoken  of,  no  one  would  listen  to 
her  with  more  pleasure  than  myself.'  '  My  dear  Mrs.  Smith,  you 
are  too  kind,'  was  her  reply,  which  was  said  with  an  air  so  dis 
trait  that  it  was  evident  she  was  big  with  something  she  had  as 
yet  concealed,  and  which  was  doubtless  the  object  and  purpose 
of  her  call.  Seeing  I  had  nothing  more  to  say,  she  opened  her 
budget,  by  repeating  her  last  words  :  '  But  may  T  make  a  single 
inquiry  ? — and  that  is,  have  you  Mr.  Winterbottom  on  your  list 
of  invited  guests  ?'  I  told  her  '  I  would  look ;'  and  so  we  re 
turned  to  our  seats  once  more  ;  and  I  then  drew  from  my  cabinet 
my  list,  and  told  her  his  name  was  not  included. 

"  '  Pardon  me,  if  I  say  to  you  it  would  be  a  particular  favor  con 
ferred  upon  me  if  you  would  send  him  a  card.  You  know  he  is 
a  very  interesting  gentleman,  and  has  recently  inherited  his  father's 
estate,  which,  I  am  told,  is  very  large,  and  designs  to  occupy  the 
house  now  building  on  Twenty-fifth  avenue  —  a  splendid  house; 
altogether  he  is  a  very  attractive  gentleman,  and  one  who  would 
be  missed ;'  and  then  leaning  forward,  she  whispered  as  if  almost 
afraid  to  be  overheard,  *  He  is  so  fond  of  music  !' 

"  I  ventured  to  ask  'if  he  was  a  young  man,  and  unmarried.' 

'*  This  somewhat  embarrassed  the  lady,  who  confessed  he  was 
not  so  very  young,  and  that  he  was  unmarried ;  indeed,  he  was 
one  who  never  would  be  ;  no  one  had  ever  mistaken  him  for  a 
single  man ;  '  but  you  know  that  these  gentlemen  give  a  certain 
interest  to  all  such  parties.' 

"  '  Oh  certainly,'  said  I ;  '  I  will  invite  Mr.  Winterbottom  this 
very  day,  and  thank  you  for  having  named  him  to  me.' 

"  The  great  object  of  her  visit  being  accomplished,  Mrs.  Tripp, 
to  show  me  how  much  she  was  my  friend,  did  me  the  kindness 
to  tell  me  of  the  canvass  which  had  been  made  by  Mrs.  Van  Dam 
and  others,  to  exclude  me  from  the  recherche  circles  of  Babylon. 
These  little  arts  she  narrated  with  so  much  skill  and  address, 
that  I  could  not  at  once  discern  the  malice  with  which  she  was 
prompted,  and  which  thus  enabled  her  at  any  time  to  say  to  these 
ladies  that  she  had  told  me  of  these  things  to  my  face,  and  so 
win  for  herself  golden  opinions  in  those  very  circles  in  which 
she  held  herself  in  a  doubtful  position,  and  in  which  she  might 
perhaps  secure  her  own  footing  the  better,  by  aiding  the  Van 
Dams'  and  Van  Tromps',  in  their  zealous  exertions  to  save  the 
purity  of  the  circles  of  fashionable  society  from  the  unwelcome 


THE  VAN  TROMPS'.  49 

addition  of  such  parvenus  as  myself  and  husband,  whose  success 
in  the  accumulation  of  wealth  they  held  was  our  only  claim  to 
good  society,  and  which  gave  good  grounds  for  our  ostracism. 
I  had  been  told  of  all  these  things  before,  for  ill  tidings  never 
need  a  herald,  and  was  not,  therefore,  taken  by  surprise,  by  any 
additional  items  of  intelligence  narrated  with  so  much  tact  by 
Mrs.  Tripp. 

"  *  Do  think  of  it !'  said  this  new-found  friend  of  mine  ;  '  the 
Van  Tromps  to  claim  a  position  on  the  score  of  their  family, 
when  their  grandfather  cut  candles  years  ago,  at  the  corner  of 
Gold  street,  in  a  little  grocery  he  kept  there.' 

"'Cut  candles.'  my  dear  madam,'  I  said;  'you  are  abso 
lutely  unintelligible.' 

"  '  Why,  my  dear  Mrs.  Smith,  I  mean  he  really  sold  candles 
worth  a  half-penny  each  by  the  halves  ;  and  yet  because,  by  some 
lucky  chance,  he  purchased  some  fifty  acres  of  land  up  town,  and 
held  on  to  it,  they  forsooth  must  now  take  it  upon  them  to  dis 
cuss  the  expediency  of  rewarding  success  in  trade,  by  any  addi 
tions  to  their  circles  from  the  class  of  dry  goods  merchants.  Isn't 
it  altogether  past  endurance  ?' 

"  I  told  her  whatever  may  have  been  the  position  of  the  Van 
Tromps'  grandfather,  I  deemed  them  perfectly  right  in  deciding 
for  themselves  to  whom  they  would  extend  the  courtesies  of  so 
ciety  ;  and  that  this  was  a  right  I  should  exercise,  and  never 
should  object  to  its  application  to  myself. 

"  '  But,  my  dear  madam,  this  caballing  and  intimidation  of  weak 
women  on  all  sides!  What  do  you  say  to  that?  You  don't  jus 
tify  them  in  all  this  maneuvering?' 

"  '  By  no  means,'  I  replied ;  '  I  deem  all  such  conduct  dis 
courteous  and  unjust.' 

"  *  Ah  !  my  dear  madame,  that's  what  I  told  Adela,  when  Mrs. 

Van  Tromp '  Here  she  hesitated,  and  I,  guessing  at  what 

was  in  her  mind,  quickly  and  in  the  most  innocent  manner,  com 
pleted  the  sentence,  by  saying,  *  declined  sending  Adela  an  invi 
tation  to  her  recent  fancy-dress  party.  It  was  very  provoking, 
I'm  sure;  and  Madame  Lafonde,  the  dress-maker,  was  very  un 
wise  to  show  the  dress  she  was  making  up  for  Adela,  and  saying 
it  was  designed  for  her  costume  at  that  party.' 

"  The  eyes  of  Mrs.  Tripp  are  naturally  bright,  but  they  now 
flashed  fire,  for  this  was  a  new  wrinkle  in  her  forehead. 

44  4  My  dear  Mrs.  Smith,  you  do  not  tell  me  so  ?' 

"  4  Oh  yes,  it  was  all  the  talk  in  Park-avenue,  and  'twas  thought 

so   very  amusing  to  that  clique,  that  the  Van  Tromps  not  only 

determined  to  decline  all  your  efforts  to  procure  an  invitation  for 

Adela,  but  Katrine  Van  Tromp,  to  make  the  matter  the  more  con- 

4 


50  PETER  SCHLEMIHL. 

spicuous,  had  the  very  dress  which  Adela  had  with  so  much 
taste  and  expense  projected,  exactly  copied,  and  wore  it  at  that 
very  party.' 

"  '  My  dear  madam,  that  explains  it  all.  I  could  not  conceive 
how  it  was  possible  she  could  have  hit  upon  a  dress  so  like 
Adela's  as  I  heard  it  was.  As  to  Lafonde,  I  will  punish  her  for 
her  treachery.' 

" '  Oh,  don't  think  of  it,'  I  replied,  in  the  most  affectionate  and 
sympathizing  manner  possible  ;  '  you  know,  dear  Mrs.  Tripp, 
that  in  doing  so  you  must  confess  your  knowledge  of  this  con 
trivance,  and  so  show  your  pain  at  its  success.  Adela  would  no 
doubt  have  had  her  invitation  but  for  the  pleasure  this  poor 
triumph  afforded  the  Van  Tromps  and  their  cliques.' 

"'  To  think  of  the  absurdity  of  Katrine  Van  Tromp  wearing  a 
dress  which  was  only  graceful  on  a  girl  like  Adela !  I'm  sure 
she  must  have  appeared  supremely  ridiculous.' 

" '  Doubtless  ;  but  then  it  gave  her  clique,  during  the  evening,  so 
fine  an  opportunity  of  saying  such  witty  speeches  about  wearing 
Adela  Tripp's  plumage,  that  this  reconciled  her  to  any  incon 
gruity  she  may  have  felt;  but  this  may  have  not  been  the  case, 
for  we  are  never  conscious  of  our  own  defects,  you  know. 

" '  Now  as  a  true  friend,  my  dear  Mrs.  Tripp,  let  me  beg  of 
you  not  to  speak  of  this  matter.  Indeed,  it  will  be  very  wrong 
of  you,  because  it  was  told  to  me  in  confidence,  and  I  felt  myself 
only  justified  in  speaking  of  this  to  you  after  all  the  kindness  you 
have  been  pleased  to  express  in  the  success  of  my  party;  ar\d 
besides,  I  am  sure  the  Van  Tromps  will  be  gratified  to  witness  the 
pain  they  have  inflicted,  and  this  will  be  a  new  triumph  over  you 
and  Adela  ;  so  I  would  never  reveal  to  any  one  your  acquaintance 
with  their  management.'  Now,  was  not  all  this  very  amiable  in 
me?"  inquired  Mrs.  Smith. 

The  Gentleman  in  Black  smiled,  and  bowed  his  approbation. 
Mrs.  Smith  continued  : 

"  Poor  Mrs.  Tripp  found  she  had  for  once  had  the  coals  of  fire 
she  prides  herself  upon  casting  about  with  so  much  adroitness, 
returned  into  her  own  bosom  ;  and  unable  to  continue  the  con 
versation  without  an  exhibition  of  her  feelings,  and  doubtless 
soothed  by  the  success  of  her  visit  to  me,  she  regretted  her  call 
could  pot  be  prolonged,  and  took  her  leave,  talking  about  Adela 
and  music  to  the  very  door,  and  making  her  last  courtesy,  disap 
peared. 

"  Two  days  since  she  made  her  appearance  once  more ;  said  she 
'desired  of  all  things  for  me  to  see  her  daughters,'  and  duly  in- 
.troduced  her  Adela  and  Josephine.  You  saw  them  this  evening  ?" 

"  Certainly,"  replied  the  Gentleman  in  Black. 


ADELA  TRIPP'S  VISIT.  51 

"  Do  you  not  think  them  graceful  and  pretty  ?" 

"  They  are  certainly  so ;  but  to  me  they  seemed  to  have  man 
ners  '  made  up  to  order,'  and  their  simplicity  was  far  too  simple 
to  he  successful." 

"  The  dear  girls,"  said  Mrs.  Smith,  "  were  very  like  their  mo 
ther,  excessively  pleased  with  all  they  saw ;  told  me  everybody 
was  thinking  of  my  party — every  one  was  expecting  so  much 
enjoyment.  And  all  this  being  over,  there  was  that  little  by-play 
between  the  mother  and  daughters,  which  told  me  their  visit  too 
had  its  ultimate  design  ;  for  which  I  patiently  waited  the  denoue 
ment,  in  the  most  perverse  silence. 

"  *  Dear  Mrs.  Smith,  I  told  Adela  she  must  see  your  beautiful 
rooms.' 

"  *  They  are  not  in  a  condition  to  be  seen,'  I  replied  quietly. 

"  *  Ah  !  I  am  so  sorry  ;  but  could  we  not  see  the  music-room  ?' 

"'  If  it  be  an  object  of  especial  wish,  certainly;  but  you  will 
excuse  its  condition,  for  I  have  just  received  one  of  Erard's 
pianos.' 

"  *  An  Erard  !  indeed  !  oh  !  let  me  see  it !'  said  Miss  Adela. 

"  On  reaching  the  room,  the  piano  was  the  only  object  of  inte 
rest  ;  and  so  eager  was  Adela  to  hear  its  tones,  that  she  begged 
to  be  permitted  to  strike  its  keys ;  and  did  so,  while  her  sister 
and  mother  stood  anxiously  by.  It  was  evident  that  it  was  not 
just  the  thing  they  could  have  wished  ;  and  Adela  whispered 
aside  to  her  mother,  'It's  so  loud  and  harsh  !'  'My  dear  Mrs. 
Smith,'  said  the  mother,  '  where  is  the  piano  you  had  here  when 
I  last  had  the  pleasure  of  calling?' 

"  '  It  is  removed  to  the  manufacturer's.' 

"  '  To  be  repaired  ?' 

"'  No,  to  be  sold.' 

"  All  hope  of  having  an  instrument  suitable  for  the  voice  of  the 
gentle  Adela  was  thus  quieted.  Mrs.  Tripp  begged  Adela  to 
gratify  me  with  one  single  song,  which  the  young  lady,  after  some 
apparent  hesitation,  complied,  and  continued  singing  for  an  hour 
or  more,  so  that  I  had  all  the  advantages  of  a  rehearsal,  which, 
while  it  enabled  me  to  judge  of  her  singing  powers,  enabled  her 
to  form  an  opinion  of  the  piano  and  of  the  room  in  which  she 
was  destined  to  win  golden  opinions,  and  which  I  cannot  but  be 
lieve  was  the  object  of  their  visit.  Now  of  all  my  guests,  there 
have  been  none  this  evening  who  have  been  so  devoted  in  their 
attentions.  No  sooner  was  the  supper  over,  than  the  managing 
mother  came  to  ask  me  if  we  should  not  be  favored  with  a  little 
music  from  some  of  the  lovely  and  talented  amateurs  who  thronged 
my  rooms  ;  and  in  this  she  was  seconded  by  some  other  matrons, 
and  those  useful  gentlemen  who  are  always  on  hand  to  draw  forth 


52  PETER  SCHLEMIHL. 

their  daughters  upon  such  occasions,  and  who  were  earnest  in 
saying  how  delightful  it  would  be. 

"  I  was,  however,  engaged  to  commence  the  dancing  with  Lieu 
tenant  De  Roos,  of  the  Coldstream  Guards,  who  had  been  pre 
sented  to  me  in  great  form  by  Mont  Morris,  as  the  member  of 
some  noble  family  which  I  now  forget,  and  who  sought  me  to 
fulfil  my  promise,  which  he  did  in  a  very  agreeable  manner,  to 
the  great  delight  of  the  young  ladies  and  their  beaux,  who  thought 
nothing  half  so  fine  as  dancing;  so,  to  the  great  regret  of  all 
lovers  of  music,  I  led  the  way  to  the  ball-room,  and  could  only 
assure  Mrs.  Tripp,  that,  as  soon  as  I  had  set  my  young  friends  in 
motion,  I  would  rejoin  her,  which  I  was  prompt  to  do.  As  is  usual, 
those  who  did  not  dance  are  either  lookers-on  of  those  who  did, 
or  had  sought  this  room  to  play  cards ;  so  that  the  saloon  pre 
sented  a  rather  thin  aspect  of  but  about  fifty,  mostly  those  whose 
dancing  days  were  over ;  but  bad  as  the  prospect  was,  Mrs.  Tripp 
renewed  her  earnest  entreaties  that  I  would  ask  some  of  our  mu 
sical  ladies  to  sing,  and  politely  led  me  to  several  whom  she  said 
were  Malibrans  in  private  life.  These  sweet  ladies,  some  very 
young  and  some  very  old,  all  had  the  usual  number  of  colds  and 
catarrhs,  and  there  seemed  but  little  chance  of  a  quiet  concert, 
notwithstanding  all  the  opulence  of  talent,  it  was  on  all  hands 
acknowledged  I  was  in  the  full  possession  of,  distributed  among 
these  very  ladies.  At  length  one  of  the  young  ladies,  after  hav 
ing  had  sundry  very  severe  and  sour  things  whispered,  as  I  pre 
sumed  by  her  mother,  agreed  to  commence;  and  then  it  occurred 
to  me  we  were  somewhat  deficient  in  listeners.  So,  begging  them 
to  go  on,  I  set  off  to  the  ball-room  to  enlist  as  many  as  I  could 
find  to  take  their  share  of  the  notes  about  to  be  issued,  whose 
value,  like  those  of  our  banks,  is  rated  by  the  circuit  of  their  cir 
culation.  Here  I  met  Wallis,  who  promised  to  aid  me,  and  some 
thirty  were  detached  from  the  ball-room,  which  was  indeed  ex 
cessively  crowded,  and  where  not  one  in  ten  of  those  who  wished 
to  dance  could  hope  to  show  off  the  beauty  of  their  dresses  or 
the  gracefulness  of  their  steps  ;  and  yet  it  was  a  hard  task  to  get 
them  away.  With  these,  therefore,  I  sought  to  make  a  com 
mencement  of  my  concert ;  and  when  we  entered  the  room,  the 
ladies  were  gathered  in  groups  ;  no  one  of  them  could  be  induced 
to  commence.  The  young  lady  I  had  hoped  was  in  full  voice, 
on  taking  her  seat  at  the  piano,  had  raised  a  few  faint  notes,  but 
in  consequence  doubtless  of  the  cutting  saying  of  her  too  anxious 
mother,  had  broken  down  after  a  few  bars,  and  was  weeping  on 
one  of  the  sofas,  which  had  a  sensible  tendency  to  render  the 
other  mammas  more  cautious  in  their  movements  ;  so,  by  a  sort  of 
common  consent,  they  all  were  waiting  for  my  coming. 


THE  CONCERT  ROOM.  53 

"  I  had  then  to  find  a  young  lady  who  would  sing  first.  I  would 
have  gone  directly  to  Miss  Adela,  but  her  mother  had  met  me  in 
the  saloon,  where  she  was  awaiting  my  coming,  and  said  Adela 
begged  not  to  be  asked  to  sing  first,  as  she  feared  she  should  sink 
under  the  effort ;  and  I  had  promised  not  to  do  so.  I  entreated 
a  sweet  girl,  who  certainly  looked  musical,  but  she  feared  she 
had  no  voice ;  her  elder  sisters  urged  in  a  quiet  way  their  belief 
that  she  would  find  it  better  than  she  feared  ;  but  she  really  looked 
so  sweetly  disconcerted  that  I  could  not  press  her,  and  she  pro 
mised  by  and  by  she  would  sing  ;  so  I  applied  elsewhere.  This 
young  lady  could  not  sing  alone,  but  would  sing  a  duet  if  Miss 
Gibson  would  sing  with  her;  a  search  being  made,  Miss  Gibson 
was  dancing,  and  could  not  come  ;  so  this  failed.  Just  then  quite 
a  rush  came  into  the  room,  and  the  looks  of  earnest  interest  they 
manifested  to  see  what  was  going  on,  made  me  direct  my  next 
entreaties  to  Miss  Adela,  whom  I  found  standing  beside  a  gentle 
man  looking  all  of  fifty  ;  a  sober,  quiet  sensible  man,  whose  arm 
she  held,  talking  to  him  with  that  sort  of  earnestness  and  air  of 
unconsciousness  of  all  that  is  going  on  around  her,  which  young 
ladies  sometimes  wear  as  a  mask  to  cover  up  their  thoughts  ;  so 
that  when  I  addressed  her  with  a  request  that  she  should  favor 
us  with  some  one  of  her  operatic  gems,  she  gave  quite  a  start, 
and  had  I  asked  her  to  repeat  the  Ten  Commandments,  she  would 
not  have  appeared  more  surprised. 

"  *  My  dearest  madam,  you  don't  think  it  possible  !  Indeed, 
indeed,  indeed  I  never  sing ;  only  at  home  to  my  father  and  mo 
ther,  or  to  one  or  two  very  particular  and  kind  friends ;  do  1  ?' 
looking  very  tenderly,  and  appealing  to  Mr.  Winterbottom.  He 
very  frigidly,  as  I  thought,  expressed  his  hopes,  his  wishes,  that 
she  should  at  once  comply ;  saying,  '  Mrs.  Smith  must  be  weary  of 
all  this  pleading  off  by  those  whose  talents  were  so  well  known.' 

"  I  thanked  him  for  his  aid,  and  Adela  relented,  and  presented 
her  pretty  hand — it  certainly  was  very  pretty — to  Mr.  Winter- 
bottom,  and  giving  him  a  soft  pressure,  which  did  not  escape  my 
observation,  saying  at  the  instant  to  me,  4  To  please  you,  I  will 
try;'  and  so  led  Mr.  Winterbottom, rather  than  being  led  by  him, 
to  the  piano.  Her  sister  Josephine  had  anticipated  her  sister, 
and  was  already  seated  on  the  stool  to  play  the  accompaniment." 

"  My  dear  madam,"  said  the  Gentleman  in  Black,  breaking  in 
upon  Mrs.  Smith's  narrative,  "  you  should  have  been  near  me  to 
have  witnessed  the  mischief  just  before  set  on  foot  by  Wallis." 

"Indeed  !  what  mischief?  He  is  too  amiable  to  do  anything 
very  wicked." 

"  You  shall  hear  how  it  was.  While  you  were  thus  occupied 
in  your  hopeless  task  of  persuading  those  young  ladies  to  sing, 


54  PETER  SCHLEMIHL. 

and  all  was  hushed  into  the  expectancy  which  you  know  always 
precedes  earthquakes  and  all  such  unusual  outbreaks  in  nature, 
and  which  have  their  types  in  all  such  musical  in-gatherings,  I 
was  standing  with  Wallis  near  the  door,  when  in  came  Major 
Brownlee,  with  his  usually  breezy  way,  with  that  tun  of  a  lady, 
who  wore  the  blue  satin  dress  and  turban  ;  whose  face  would 
have  well  matched  the  late  Duchess  of  St.  Albans.  You  will  re 
collect  her  ?" 

"  Oh  yes,  certainly  ;  go  on,  I  am  all  impatience." 

"Finding  all  hushed  into  perfect  silence,  the  Major  looked 
amazingly  mystified;  and  seeing  Wallis,  he  came  up,  and  in  a 
stage  whisper,  asked,  '  What's  going  on  here  ?'  Wallis  replied, 
in  the  same  whisper,  and  with  a  most  grave  aspect,  *  Mrs.  Smith 
has  had  a  season  of  prayer,  and  now  we  are  about,  to  sing !' 

"  '  A  prayer-meeting !  the  devil !  it's  too  hot  here  for  me  !'  and 
so  saying,  he  wheeled  off  with  the  lady,  who  looked  her  astonish 
ment.  I  followed  them  into  the  ball-room,  where  they  spread 
the  news ;  and  'twas  this  that  brought  in  the  rush  of  inquiring 
faces  you  have  just  referred  to." 

"  I  am  under  infinite  obligations  to  Wallis,  truly,"  said  Mrs. 
Smith,  "and  shall  not  forget  to  acknowledge  them.  Adela 
doubtless  attributed  it  to  the  zeal  of  hearing  her  voice — and  a  fine 
voice  it  is !  Her  slides  I  thought  \vere  perfect,  and  her  trills 
astounding  ;  and  her  throat  played  with  a  motion  only  surpassed 
by  a  Canary  bird's  in  the  full  tide  of  song;  and  when  she  came 
to  that  sweet,  and  dying  close,  I  felt  as  if  I  could  say,  '  If  music 
be  the  food  of  love — sing  on  !'  The  encore  was  everything  her 
mother  could  wish,  and  she  had  the  tact  to  decline  a  farther  effort. 
Her  bolt  had  reached  the  mark  to  which  her  notes  had  winged  it. 
The  face  of  Winterbottom  for  once  brightened.  Everybody 
said,  'How  beautiful!'  'how  transcendent!'  and  'how  grace 
ful!'  And  I  doubt  not  he  thought  'What  a  fine  voice  Miss 
Adela  has,  and  what  a  fine  thing  it  will  be  for  me  to  have  so  fine 
a  lady  in  my  fine  house !'  And  on  her  part  she  may  have 
thought  '  How  gladly  I  would  exchange  my  notes  for  yours  T 
But  whatever  may  have  been  the  thoughts  of  the  parties  in  ques 
tion,  the  grace  with  which  Adela  glided  away  from  the  piano, 
and  the  modesty  with  which  she  received  all  congratulations,  and 
the  look  of  gentle  entreaty  to  Winterbottom  to  lead  her  away, 
were  all  admirable.  He  was  evidently  flattered,  and  Adela's  suc 
cess  doubtless  induced  some  mothers  to  look  anxiously  to  those 
kind  friends  I  have  spoken  of,  who  know  how  to  be  useful  at 
such  times,  and  at  least  a  dozen  of  those  young  ladies  who  had 
been  beyond  all  entreaty,  already  began  to  look  diffident,  and 
commenced  pulling  at  the  fingers  of  their  kid  gloves ;  when  to 


OF  THE  POLKA.  55 

their  horror,  as  well  as  my  own,  a  gentleman  led  that  everlasting 
cancatrice,  Mrs.  Offenheim,  who  put  a  new  face  on  things  by 
bursting  upon  us  with  her  famous  bravura.  Nothing  could  have 
been  more  beautiful  than  the  looks  of  interest  with  which  Adela 
now  stood  forward  to  admire  and  applaud.  She  had  no  fears  of 
rivalry,  and  then  it  was  such  an  act  of  amability  to  suggest  one 
song  after  another,  till  the  patience  of  all  the  pretty  songsters  was 
worn  out,  and  the  company  dispersed.  Mrs.  Tripp  was  truly 
delighted ;  all  that  tact  and  contrivance  could  accomplish  had 
been  attained ;  and  Adela  and  Mr.  Winterbottom  took  leave  of 
me  at  the  same  time. 

"  But  what  did  you  think  of  Miss  Adela's  singing?"  inquired 
Mrs.  Smith. 

"  It  was  too  artistical  to  suit  me.  A  lady  should  sing  as  little 
like  an  operatic  artiste  as  she  should  dance  like  one,  and  should 
be  as  far  from  wriggling  her  petticoats  when  singing,  like  Ma 
dame  Picot,  as  she  would  be  of  tossing  them  up  when  dancing 
with  the  abandon  of  Mademoiselle  Augusta." 

"  Do  you  think  so  ?  I  am  glad  to  have  my  own  impressions 
sustained  by  your  matured  judgment." 

The  Gentleman  in  Black  bowed  his  acknowledgments. 

"Did  you  dance  this  evening?"  inquired  Mrs.  Smith,  in  the 
kindest  manner. 

"  I  never  dance,"  said  the  Gentleman  in  Black,  "  owing  to  a 
slight  defect  in  my  left  ankle.  I  am,  like  Byron,  compelled  to 
gaze  on  pleasures  which  I  am  left  to  envy  and  admire  ;"  but  he 
added  with  great  fervency  and  emphasis,  "I  am  always  gratified 
to  set  others  dancing." 

"  Did  you  witness  the  Polka,  as  danced  by  those  sweet  girls  in 
blue  silks  with  silver  sprigs?"  inquired  Mrs.  Smith;  "I  have 
really  forgotten  their  names,  but  their  beauty  was  so  distingue 
that  their  forms  are  not  so  soon  forgotten." 

"  I  remarked  them,"  replied  the  Gentleman  in  Black,  "and  the 
dance  was  graceful  and  attractive  enough,  as  any  dance  would  be 
so  sweetly  sustained;  but  I  don't  think  it  can  be  permanently  at 
tractive  or  graceful,  unless  the  ladies  will  consent  to  wear  dresses 
of  the  required  scantiness  and  length.  It  must  be  confined,  there 
fore,  to  fancy  balls  and  the  stage,  where  the  suitable  costumes  can 
be  worn  ;  moreover,  its  effect  depends  so  much  on  the  air  of  co 
quetry  and  romping  to  be  assumed  in  it,  that  it  is  but  travestied 
as  we  see  it  danced  in  drawing-rooms." 

"  There  is  no  dance,"  said  Mrs.  Smith,  "like  the  waltz.  How 
fairy-like  and  graceful  it  can  be  made  to  appear  I  think  we  saw 
in  the  person  of  Miss  De  Ligne,  who  followed  me  in  waltzing 
with  De  Roos.  Did  you  see  her?" 


56  PETER  SCHLEMIHL. 

"  Yes,  truly  !  I  saw  nothing  but  her  amid  all  the  group ;  no 
form  was  so  faultless,  no  movement  so  perfect ;  the  features  wore 
the  aspect  of  the  sweetest  serenity,  while  her  feet  moved  with  a 
lightness  which,  had  flowers  been  springing  beneath  her,  would 
but  have  bent  their  heads  in  homage  of  her  loveliness  !" 

"  My  dear  sir,  you  must,  with  all  the  other  gentlemen,  have 
been  entranced  !  Indeed  they  all  seemed  willing  to  stand  and 
gaze,  and  no  ladies  were  willing  to  adventure  into  the  circle  while 
she  was  waltzing.  I  never  saw  such  universal  homage ;  rendered 
and  won  all  unconsciously  to  herself.  And  her  surprise  at  find 
ing  herself  alone  on  the  floor  was  so  innocently  expressed,  and 
the  compliments  paid  her  were  received  too  in  a  manner  so  per 
fectly  quiet  and  maidenly,  and  without  the  slightest  pretence,  that 
I  was  so  charmed  with  her  I  could  not  refrain  from  kissing  her 
on  the  spot." 

"  An  example,  my  dear  madam,  which  for  one  I  would  gladly 
have  followed." 

"  No  doubt,  sir,  and  all  the  other  gentlemen  in  long  succession. 
That  would  not  have  been  so  hard  a  task  as  that  which  followed, 
of  waltzing  with  those  weighty  ladies  who  next  took  the  floor, 
tasking  the  sinews  of  the  unfortunates  whose  hard  work  it  was 
to  heave  them  round.  How  can  such  figures  and  forms  venture 
into  the  giddy  whirl  of  the  waltz  ?  There  was  Jack  Musard  ready 
to  die  of  his  toils  in  waltzing  with  Katrine  Van  Tromp  !" 

"  You  were  speaking  of  our  long  dresses,"  continued  Mrs. 
Smith  ;  "  don't  you  think  they  could  be  improved  ?" 

"  Most  certainly,"  replied  the  Gentleman  in  Black  ;  "  by  being 
made  shorter ;  and  they  would  be,  if  all  had  the  pretty  foot  I  see 
peeping  out  of  its  concealment." 

Mrs.  Smith  hastily  withdrew  it ;  but  soon  after,  as  the  con 
versation  proceeded,  by  the  most  natural  movement  in  the  world, 
again  gave  it  light  and  air.  Like  all  pretty  ladies  so  endowed, 
she  was  unwilling  it  should  be  hid — and  it  was  certainly  worth 
the  seeing  ;  it  was  so  slender,  with  an  instep  so  high,  that  when 
walking  on  a  light  snow,  only  the  ball  and  heel  made  their  im 
print  on  the  pavement. 

"  It  seems  strange  that  our  present  fashion  should  be  so  en 
during,"  said  Mrs.  Smith. 

"  My  dear  madam,  you  are  little  aware  of  the  state  policy  which 
has  led  to  their  adoption  and  perpetuity,"  replied  the  Gentleman 
in  Black. 

"  State  policy !  What  has  the  policy  of  states  to  do  with  our 
dresses  ?" 

"  It  is  telling  cabinet  secrets ;  but  as  you  desire  it,  I  will  reveal 
to  you  some  of  '  the  secrets  of  my  prison-house  !' ' 


LADIES'  FASHIONS  OF  THE  PRESENT  DAY.  57 

"  I  beg  you  will  do  so."  "  He  must  be  a  diplomat !"  thought 
Mrs.  Smith. 

"  You  are  doubtless  aware  that  the  fashions  of  the  first  circles 
of  London  and  Paris  are  determined  by  certain  modistes,  usually 
men,  aided  by  suggestions  from  the  leaders  of  the  ton.  Some 
years  since,  the  state  of  the  trade  of  France  and  England  became 
a  subject  of  absorbing  interest  to  the  cabinets  of  Paris  and  Lon 
don.  The  consumption  did  not  meet  the  supply  ;  the  operatives 
were  clamorous  for  food  ;  they  must  be  fed;  how,  was  a  ques 
tion  which  was  long  mooted.  There  was  no  possibility  of  in 
creasing  the  number  of  consumers,  and  the  only  relief  was  to  be 
found  in  an  increase  of  the  goods  consumed.  At  last  an  appeal 
was  made  to  the  modistes  of  Paris,  and  Lady  Blessington  and 
her  Count  D'Orsay  came  to  their  aid,  and  to  their  inventive 
genius  and  agency,  ladies  now  owe  their  present  fashions.  It  is 
true  their  first  go-off  was  not  found  graceful,  and  bishop's-sleeves 
were  soon  voted  only  in  good  taste  when  worn  by  the  venerable 
lords  spiritual ;  so  they  transferred  the  bishops  from  the  sleeve 
to  the  hips,  and  what  was  lost  to  the  sleeve  was  added  to  the 
skirt,  and  the  '  bishop'  was  required  to  give  grace  and  flow  to  the 
drapery.  I  remember  being  at  a  levee  at  the  president's  on  New 
Year's  day,  when  these  first  came  into  fashion,  and  was  in  com 
pany  with  an  honest  man  from  the  far  west,  who  asked  me  how 
it  was  that  the  girls  on  this  side  of  the  mountains  had  forms  so 
much  fuller  than  the  girls  of  the  west?  I  initiated  him  into  the 
secret  of  wearing  '  bishops.'  He  looked  grave,  and  seemed  satis 
fied  with  the  explanation,  when  he  suddenly  whirled  me  round 
and  said,  '  Look  there  !'  pointing  to  the  wife  of  a  distinguished 
senator  from  the  east,  somewhat  remarkable  certainly  for  the  ex 
cess  of  her  fashion  ;  '  look  there !  that  woman  has  not  only  the 
bishop,  but  a  whole  diocess  on  her  hips  !' ' 

"  Oh,  you  are  too  severe  on  us  ladies  !     I  must  not  listen  to 

you." 

"  My  dear  madam,"  said  the  Gentleman  in  Black,  with  an  air 
of  the  utmost  humility,  "  pardon  me  if  I  have  offended  you,  but 
the  incident  amused  me  at  the  time,  and  I  hope  has  amused  you." 

"  But  you  were  speaking  of  these  fashions  as  being  matters  of 
state  policy,"  said  Mrs.  Smith,  wishing  to  relieve  the  gentleman 
of  his  embarrassment,  and  to  recall  the  topic  which  had  excited 
her  surprise. 

"  Yes,  madam,  they  have  become  so ;  and  the  aristocracy  of 
England  and  France  are  compelled,  whatever  may  be  the  change 
of  texture  and  cut,  to  consume  as  many  yards  as  possible  in  their 
fashions.  The  costume  a  la  nature  once  adopted  in  France  can 
never  be  renewed." 


58  PETER  SCHLEMIHL. 

"  Costume  a  la  nature!"  said  Mrs.  Smith,  in  a  tone  of  sur 
prise  ;  "  that  is  a  fashion  I  never  before  heard  of." 

"  Indeed !  Well,  it  was  one  of  the  vagaries  of  the  French 
Revolution,  and  consisted  of  a  fine  flesh-colored  knit  silk,  per 
fectly  fitting  the  form,  over  which  mantles  of  classic  cut  were 
gracefully  worn.  The  ladies  then  looked  very  much  like  a  tribe 
of  Indian  women  from  the  foot  of  the  Rocky  Mountains.  The 
wife  of  the  French  Minister  in  those  days,  once  appeared  so 
habited  at  a  levee  given  by  Mr.  Jefferson,  and  a  good  old  lady 
who  was  present  assured  me  that  she  was  sure  a  naked  woman 
had  walked  into  the  drawing-room  ;  and  the  dismay  she  spread 
was  as  amusing  to  the  gentlemen  as  it  was  beyond  all  description 
distressing  to  the  ladies.  I  need  not  say,  she  made  but  one  such 
exhibition  of  herself." 

"  Is  it  possible,"  said  Mrs.  Smith,  "  that  any  fashions  more 
absurd  than  the  present  were  ever  worn  ?" 

"  The  present !  they  are  not  ungraceful ;  flesh  and  blood  are 
now  in  good  repute,  and  a  lady  does  not  strive  to  repress  what  in 
the  nature  of  things  must  be  attractive.  But  I  assure  you  it  is 
not  thirty  years  since,  that  our  ladies  sought  to  be  as  straight  and 
as  thin  as  laths." 

"  Dear  me  !  how  could  they  accomplish  this  !  You  are  ro 
mancing!" 

"  No  indeed,  madam,  I  am  not ;  and  if  you  will  allow  me  to 
explain  what  is  so  mysterious,  I  will  tell  you  by  what  most  in 
genious  process  this  result  was  to  some  degree  attained.  At  night 
they  put  on  wet  sheep-skins,  which  were  drawn  tight  by  means 
of  lacings  ;  these  of  course  shrunk  as  they  dried  during  the  hours 
of  sleep,  and  made  what  was  small  before, 

"  '  Fine  by  degrees  and  beautifully  less.'  " 

"  You  astonish  m'e  !  I  never  will  again  complain  of  the  pre 
sent  fashion  if  I  have  been  saved  from  such  slow  martyrdom,  and 
which  to  me,"  looking  for  an  instant  on  her  swelling  shoulders 
and  full  chest,  "  would  have  been  as  hopeless  of  attainment  as 
undesirable  when  attained." 

The  Gentleman  in  Black  sat  in  silence;  his  looks  were  elo 
quent  of  his  due  appreciation  of  beauty  which  no  art  could  hide, 
heighten,  or  improve.  Mrs.  Smith,  somewhat  embarrassed  by 
the  silence  which  followed,  rose,  and  taking  a  book  from  the 
shelf,  asked  the  Gentleman  in  Black  if  he  had  seen  the  volume 
she  handed  to  him,  saying  at  the  same  lime,  "  that  the  author  was 
one  of  her  particular  friends,  and  who  had  favored  her  with  his 
presence  at  her  party ;"  and  this  she  did,  hoping  to  solve  the 
doubt  in  her  own  mind  as  to  what  should  be  the  profession  to 


PIOUS  REFLECTIONS  BY  SIR  ROBERT  BOYLE.          59 

which  the  unknown  was  devoted.  The  Gentleman  in  Black 
seemed  surprised  to  find  it  a  volume  of  sermons  ;  and  looked  in 
quiringly  at  the  lady,  as  though  he  would  ask,  "  Why  do  you 
hand  me  such  a  book  as  this  ?"  But  as  she  made  no  other  ob 
servation,  and  had  re-seated  herself,  he  looked  over  the  volume, 
which  he  threw  down  on  the  table,  saying,  "  he  had  never  seen 
it  before." 

"  You  are  not  fond  of  sermons,  then  ?" 

"  No,  madam  ;  this  is  a  sort  of  literature  for  which  I  have  no 
especial  predilections." 

"  Nor  have  I,"  said  Mrs.  Smith  ;  "  and  I  do  not  know  why 
these  compositions  should  be  called  by  so  obsolete  a  name  as 
sermons,  which  are  usually  so  jejune ;  for  they  are  so  graceful 
and  imaginative  that  they  deserve  all  the  admiration  they  have 
received  ;"  and  taking  up  the  book,  she  added,  "  this  last  is  espe 
cially  beautiful." 

The  Gentleman  in  Black  again  took  the  book,  and  read  aloud 
the  caption,  "  Voices  of  the  Deep  :"  he  scanned  the  pages,  and 
again  threw  the  book  on  the  table,  saying,  "  Doubtless  these  re 
flections  were  only  surpassed  by  those  pious  meditations  written 
*  on  a  Decayed  Broom-stick  !'  ' 

"  My  dear  sir,  it  may  be  that  you  are  worthy  of  being  the 
successor  of  Dean  Swift,  but  I  shall  make  but  a  poor  Lady 
Berkeley." 

"  Ah  !  well,  madam,  since  you  object  to  the  badinage  of  the 
Dean,  you  will  not  object,  I  am  sure,  if  I  say  that  the  *  Voices  of 
the  Deep'  are  as  fitting  and  as  judicious  a  topic  for  the  enforce 
ment  of  pious  thoughts  as  those  I  will  select  from  so  eminent  and 
distinguished  a  philosopher  and  Christian  as  Sir  Robert  Boyle." 
So  saying,  he  went  up  to  the  book-cases,  and  took  out  one  of  the 
five  folios  of  Sir  Robert  Boyle's  works,  edition  of  London,  1744, 
and  commenced  examining  its  contents,  as  if  searching  for  a 
passage. 

"  My  dear  sir,  I  am  only  acquainted  with  Sir  Robert  Boyle  by 
his  distinguished  reputation,  and  am  prepared  to  venerate  all  he 
may  have  written ;  nothing  trivial  can  find  a  place,  I  am  sure,  in 
his  works." 

"  My  dear  madam,  I  did  not  say  there  was*;  my  remark  only 
was  as  to  the  novelty  of  the  idea  of  making  such  subjects  the 
peg  on  which  to  hang  religious  reflections.  Now  let  us  see  if 
Sir  Robert  has  not  something  quite  as  clever  as  your  divines  of 
the  present  day.  What  do  you  say  to  this?"  reading  vol.  ii.,  p. 
164,  "  '  Upon  sitting  at  ease  in  a  coach  that  went  very  fast;'  or 
this:  'Upon  the  sight  of  a  fine  milk-maid  singing  to  her  cow  ;' 
p.  184;  or  this  :  '  Upon  drinking  out  of  the  brim  of  one's  hat;' 


60  PETER  SCHLEMIHL. 

p.  205  ;  or  this  :  '  Upon  my  Lady  R.  R.'s  fine  closet  ?'  p.  216. 
Shall  I  read  you  a  passage  or  two,  that  you  may  see  how  fine 
ladies  of  the  city  and  court  of  London  amused  themselves  a 
century  or  two  since,  and  what  so  grave  a  gentleman  thought  of 
them?" 

"  If  you  please,"  replied  Mrs.  Smith.  The  Gentleman  in 
Black  read  as  follows  :  "  *  The  embellishments  that  adorn  and  en 
noble  this  delightful  place  are  such,  that  I  believe  the  possessor 
of  them,  as  welcome  as  she  is  to  the  best  of  companies,  scarce 
ever  looks  upon  finer  things  than  she  can  see  in  her  closet,  un 
less  she  looks  into  her  glass.'  " 

"  Upon  my  word  !"  said  Mrs.  Smith,  "I  do  believe  you  are 
making  the  book  as  you  go  on  !  Certainly  Sir  Robert  never 
made  such  fine  compliments  as  you  have  put  into  his  mouth." 

"  Here  it  is,"  said  the  Gentleman  in  Black,  "  all  in  the  fairest 
type,"  pointing  to  the  page  ;  "  but  let  me  read  you  another  pas 
sage,  which  shows  his  shrewdness  and  observation,  and  is  a  hint 
which  some  ladies  of  the  present  day  would  do  well  to  adopt." 
The  Gentleman  in  Black  read  on:  "'The  collection  is  curious 
in  its  kind,  and  such  as,  if  the  mistress  of  it  were  less  hand 
some  than  she  is,  might  give  her,  as  well  cause  to  be  jealous  of 
these  fine  things,  as  to  be  proud  of  them,  since  a  beauty  that 
were  but  ordinary  could  but  divert  a  spectator  from  objects  which 
are  not  so.'  ' 

"  Really,"  said  Mrs.  Smith,  "  if  this  were  to  be  the  rule  of 
furnishing  our  saloons,  what  would  be  the  style  adopted  by  my 
especial  friends,  the  Van  Tromps  !  Indeed,  I  fear  Sir  Robert 
would  find  but  few  such  closets,  as  he  calls  them,  in  our  Babylon 
the  Less." 

"  If,  madam,  there  were  but  one,  that  were  all  your  own,"  re 
plied  the  Gentleman  in  Black,  in  the  most  amiable  manner. 

Mrs.  Smith  looked  very  sweet  upon  the  Gentleman  in  Black, 
who  hid  his  emotion  by  reading  on:  "  'I  can  readily  believe  that 
Lindenmere  (the  friend  with  whom  Sir  Robert  is  holding  his 
imaginary  conversation),  has  wit  and  amorousness  to  make  him 
find  it  more  easy  to  defend  fair  ladies  than  to  defend  himself 
against  them.'  '  The  gentleman,  pausing,  looked  into  the  very 
depths  of  the  lady's  lustrous  eyes,  which  now  in  their  turn  fell 
before  the  burning  glance,  and  rested  on  her  swelling  bosom,  in 
beautiful  consciousness  of  her  attractiveness. 

"But,"  said  the  Gentleman  in  Black,  "  here  is  a  meditation 
which  must  come  home  '  to  the  business  and  bosoms'  of  the  gas 
tronomers  of  the  great  city  of  Babylon  the  Less."  Turning  to 
page  219,  he  read  :  "  Upon  the  Eating  of  Oysters." 

"  Indeed  !"  exclaimed  Mrs.  Smith  ;  "  certainly  he  must  be  a 


ON  EATING  OF  OYSTERS.  61 

real  Jacques,  who  can  find  '  sermons  in  stones,  books  in  running 
brooks,  and  good  in  everything.' ' 

"  It  must  be  confessed,"  said  the  Gentleman  in  Black,  in  his 
usual  quiet  way,  "  there  are  few  things  more  palatable  than  the 
oysters  which  Florence  serves  up  in  the  shell,  with  the  usual 
condiments  of  ground  cracker,  cream  and  butter." 

**  Pray  what  does  Sir  Robert  say  of  eating  oysters  ?  He  has 
opened  upon  a  subject  unusually  rich." 

"  Sir  Robert,  it  seems,  has  a  great  abhorrence  of  the  eating  of 
oysters  raw.  He  does  not  think  it  less  barbarous  to  eat  raw  flesh 
than  raw  oysters,  and  he  would  class  that  most  lovely  and  sim 
ple-hearted  of  all  wise  men,  Isaac  Walton,  with  cannibals ;  for 
he,  you  no  doubt  will  recollect,  recommends  us,  in  the  eating  of 
oysters,  having  carefully  coaxed  them  to  the  opening  of  their 
shells,  *  to  tickle  them  to  death  with  our  teeth  T  But  I  will  read 
you  what  Sir  Robert  says  of  eating  oysters  raw  :  '  This  is  a 
practice,  not  only  of  the  rude  vulgar,  but  of  the  politest  and  nicest 
of  persons  among  us,  such  as  physicians,  divines,  and  even  ladies, 
who  scruple  not  to  destroy  oysters  alive,  and  kill  them,  not  with 
their  hands  or  teeth,  but  with  their  stomachs !  where,  for  aught 
we  know,  they  begin  to  be  digested  before  they  make  an  end  of 
dying !'  " 

"  Ah !  here  are  reflections,"  exclaimed  the  Gentleman  in  Black, 
(p.  225,)  "  which  promise  something  attractive  :  *  Upon  the  Shop 
of  an  ugly  painter  well  stored  with  pictures  of  handsome  ladies.' 
Shall  I  read  ?" 

"  Indeed,"  said  the  lady,  "  yon  have  so  surprised  me  that  I  am 
doubtful  if  it  be  safe  for  me  to  hear  any  more  from  so  very  quaint, 
not  to  say  so  queer,  a  writer.  We  ladies  have  suffered  so  severely 
in  the  matter  of  the  oysters,  that  I  am  afraid  to  trust  his  pencil, 
lest  his  portraitures  of  those  handsome  ladies  have  more  of  shadow 
than  light  in  them." 

"  My  dear  madam,  I  think,"  casting  his  eyes  down  the  page, 
"you  may  risk  a  sentence  or  two,  at  least;"  and  so  saying,  he 
read  on  :  "  '  Here  is  a  deceitful  shop  of  beauty .'  ' 

"  Stop  !"  exclaimed  Mrs.  Smith  ;  "  and  is  this  your  promising 
commencement?" 

"  Ah,  do  not  be  so  ready  to  condemn  ! — let  me  proceed  ;"  so 
he  read  on  :  "  '  where  many  that  come  but  to  wonder,  meet  with 
love ;  and  even  when  they  buy  not  what  they  like,  pay  their 
hearts  for  it.'  " 

"  Now  that  is  very  prettily  said  for  so  old  a  gentleman  !  Pray 
go  on." 

The  Gentleman  in  Black  bowed  and  read  on:  "'  The  shop 
being  so  well  furnished  that  beauty  seems  here  to  have  assumed 


62  PETER  SCHLEMIHL. 

all  the  variety  of  features  and  complexions  she  can  be  dressed  in, 
and  so  exquisitely  to  have  fitted  all  gazers  with  proportionate  and 
attractive  objects,  that  nothing  but  an  absolute  incapability  of  love 
is  here  able  to  protect  them  from  that  passion,  which  not  to  con 
cede  among  so  many  inspiring  wonders,  were  one.  ]f  in  these 
faces  the  originals  equal  the  transcripts  ;  if  art  have  not  flattered 
nature,  and  attempted  more  to  instruct  than  to  imitate  her;  and 
if  the  painter  have  not  elected  rather  to  have  his  pieces  liked, 
than  like,  here  are  apologies  for  love,  that  not  only  pardons,  but 
proselytes.' " 

"  Indeed,"  said  Mrs.  Smith,  "  I  forgive  the  old  gentleman  for 
all  his  discourteousness  in  the  matter  of  the  oysters,  and  would 
seal  his  pardon  with  a  kiss  if  he  were  but  here." 

Now  I  must  say  to  my  lady  readers,  it  is  very  provoking  for 
them  to  say  such  things  of  old  men  and  dead  men,  when  living 
ones  are  so  near  them  ;  and  so  thought  the  Gentleman  in  Black. 

"  And  what  will  you  confer  on  the  gentleman  who  has  made 
you  acquainted  with  so  many  graceful  compliments  ?" 

The  lady  shook  her  head,  and  the  Gentleman  in  Black  relieved 
her  of  his  implied  request  by  reading  on  :  " '  I  must  add,  that 
there  are  more  suns  than  one,  whose  brightness,  even  by  reflec 
tion,  can  dazzle;  there  are  princesses  more  illustrious  for  the 
blood  that  lightens  in  their  cheeks  than  for  that  which  runs  in 
their  veins,  and  who,  like  victorious  monarchs,  can  conquer  at  a 
distance  and  captivate  by  proxy.' J: 

The  Gentleman  in  Black  looked  tenderly  at  the  lady,  closed 
the  book  with  a  sigh,  and  replaced  it  on  the  shelf. 


CHAPTER  IV. 

The  Gentleman  in  Black  gives  Mrs.  Smith  his  opinion  of  the  authors  in  the 
library — Colloquy  upon  the  doctrine  of  the  Catholic  church  of  the  perpetual 
Virginity  of  the  Virgin — Effect  of  that  opinion  upon  the  Church — Testi 
mony  of  Cyprian — Manners  of  the  pristine  ages  of  the  Church — St.  Chry- 
sostom's  nun — The  testimony  of  Erasmus — Of  the  manners  in  his  times — 
Thomas  Aquinas  and  his  works — Various  versions  of  the  Bible — Colloquy 
in  relation  to  these. 

MRS.  SMITH,  desirous   of  relieving  the  Gentleman  in  Black 
of  his  embarrassment,  and  wishing  to  change  the  current  of  his 


FATHERS  OF  THE  CHURCH.  63 

thoughts,  requested  him  to  give  her  the  benefit  of  his  opinion  of 
her  library,  and  of  the  authors  it  contained. 

The  Gentleman  in  Black,  after  a  moment's  abstraction,  reco 
vered  himself,  and  looking  around,  said: 

"  As  I  have  remarked,  you  have  strange  contrarieties  of  men 
and  opinions  here  ;  on  this  side,  the  fathers  of  the  church,  and 
on  the  other,  their  antagonists.  Here  are  ORIGEN,  CYPRIAN,  TER- 
TULLIAN,  ATHANASIUS,  CHRYSOSTOM,  JEROME,  AUGUSTINE,  THEO- 
DORET,  BASIL,  the  four  GREGORYS,  LEO,  BENEDICT,  and  their  suc 
cessors  ;  and  there,"  pointing  to  the  English  divines,  "  the  giants 
of  Protestant  theology." 

"  They  present  a  very  respectable  outside,  certainly,"  said 
Mrs.  Smith  ;  "  but  I  am  guiltless  of  any  knowledge  of  what  they 
contain." 

"  Ah  !"  said  the  Gentleman  in  Black,  "  they  were  truly  won 
derful  men !  Here,"  said  he,  rasping  the  toe  of  his  boot  against 
a  row  of  folios,  "  is  one  of  the  great  works  of  the  age  in  which 
it  was  written." 

Mrs.  Smith  stooped  to  read  the  title  on  the  backs,  but  it  was 
written  in  contractions,  and  in  a  language  not  known  to-the  lady; 
who,  finding  her  attempt  at  guessing  at  the  purport  of  the  title 
unavailable,  candidly  confessed  her  ignorance,  and  requested  the 
Gentleman  in  Black  to  tell  on  what  subject  they  treated. 

He  replied,  smiling,  "  On  a  subject  which  has  divided*  the 

*  John  d'Alva  published  48  folio  volumes  which  are  here  referred  to,  on 
the  "  Immaculate  Conception  of  the  Virgin  Mary,"  nor  did  he  exhaust  the 
subject,  for  Disraeli,  in  his  Curiosities  of  Literature,  speaks  of  a  pious  Jesuit 
who  devoted  thirty-six  years  to  the  completion  of  a  work  in  seven  folio 
volumes,  which  he  styled  "  the  system  of  the  Virgin,"  in  which  he  treated  of 
three  thousand  questions  never  before  considered. — Curiosities,  London  ed.  p. 
135. 

The  Franciscans  maintained  that  the  Virgin  Mary  stKmld  be  excepted  under 
the  general  declaration  that  the  sin  of  Adam  passed  into  all  mankind.  The 
Dominicans,  on  the  other  hand,  asserted  that  as  Paul  had  not  excepted  her, 
neither  should  they.  It  required  all  the  artifice  of  the  legates,  and  the  au 
thority  of  the  Pope  himself,  to  prevent  a  schism  upon  this  point.  A  compro 
mise  was  finally  agreed  upon  between  the  parties,  to  the  effect  that  it  should 
be  said,  that  the  synod  had  no  reference  to  the  Virgin  Mary  in  their  decree. 

In  the  "  Litanies  of  the  blessed  Virgin  Mary,"  she  is  addressed  in  language 
which  would  render  it  fitting  she  should  be  free  from  human  imperfec 
tion,  and  certainly  imply  it,  as  follows :  "Holy  Mary,  pray  for  us,  Holy  Mother 
of  God,  Holy  Virgin  of  virgins,  Mother  of  divine  grace,  Mother  undefiled, 
Mother  untouched,  Mother  most  amiable,  Mother  most  admirable,  Mother 
of  our  Creator,  Mother  of  our  Redeemer,  Most  prudent  Virgin.  Venerable 
Virgin,  Renowned  Virgin,  Powerful  Virgin,  Merciful  Virgin,  Faithful  Vir 
gin,  Mirror  of  Justice,  Seat  of  Wisdom,  Cause  of  our  Joy,  Vessel  of  spiritu 
ality,  Vessel  of  honor,  Noble  vessel  of  devotion,  Mystical  rose,  Tower  of 
David,  Tower  of  ivory,  House  of  gold,  Ark  of  the  Covenant,  Gate  of  Heaven, 


64  PETER  SCHLEMIHL. 

Christian  world  from  its  earliest  ages :  *  The  Perpetual  Virginity 
of  Mary.'  " 

"  Is  it  possible,"  she  exclaimed,  "  that  such  a  subject  should  af 
ford  matter  for  so  many  ponderous  volumes  ?" 

The  Gentleman  in  Black  answered,  "  There  was  nothing  so 
fruitful  of  controversy  as  questions  which  are  beyond  the  reach 
of  the  human  understanding.  This  is  the  receptacle  of  all  the 
learning  and  argument  held  by  the  church  on  this  subject,  and  on 
the  sublime  virtue  of  virginity  in  general.  Who  will  say  the 
Jesuits  have  done  nothing  for  the  advancement  of  learning,  after 
this  ?" 

"•  To  me,"  replied  Mrs.  Smith,  "  it  looks  like  laborious  idle 
ness.  But  you  tell  me  this  subject  has  been  deemed  one  of  great 
interest  in  the  early  times  of  the  Christian  church  ?" 

"  Its  rise  is  not  now  to  be  traced,  though  we  know  it  was  as 
early  as  the  times  of  Origen  ;  and  we  first  hear  of  its  existence, 
from  its  being  denied  by  Helvetius,  a  disciple  of  Auxentius,  the 
Arian;  and  also  by  Tertullian,  Apollonarius,  Eunomias,  and 
their  followers." 

"  It  seems  to  me,"  said  Mrs.  Smith,  "  perfectly  absurd." 

"  Yes,  madam,  and  however  idle  and  puerile  all  this  may  seem 
to  you,"  replied  the  Gentleman  in  Black,'4'  I  assure  you  no  dog 
ma  has  had  so  great  an  influence  on  the  conditions  of  society,  or 
has  wrought  more  important  changes  on  the  moral  aspects  of  the 
world,  than  this.  Unlike  most  of  the  dogmas  and  dreams  of  the 

Morning  Star,  Health  of  the  Weak,  Refuge  of  sinners,  Comfort  of  the  afflicted, 
Help  of  Christians,  Queen  of  Angels,  Queen  of  patriarchs,  Queen  of  prophets, 
Queen  of  apostles,  Queen  of  martyrs,  Queen  of  confessors,  Queen  of  Virgins, 
Queen  of  all  saints,  pray  for  us." — New  Englander  for  Jan.  1845. 

G.  de  Felice,  the  able  correspondent  of  the  "New  York  Observer,"  in  a  letter 
to  the  editors  of  that  paper,  dated  "  Mautauban,  August  8,  1847,"  published  in 
that  paper,  dated  Nov.  13th,  1847,  says  : 

"  I  have  before  me  a  shocking  parody  of  the  Lord's  prayer.  The  holy  and 
sublime  prayer  which  Jesus  Christ  taught  his  disciples, — that  prayer  which 
ought  to  be  addressed  to  God  alone — the  Jesuits  have  the  effrontery  to  offer  to 
Mary.  This  profanation  would  seem  incredible,  but  that  the  text  of  the  new 
Popish  prayer  has  been  published  in  some  journals.  It  is  in  these  terms : 
'  O  Mary,  who  art  in  Heaven !  O  Mary,  hallowed  be  thy  name  for  ever !  thy 
love  be  in  all  hearts  !  thy  will  be  done  on  earth  as  in  heaven.  Give  us  this 
day  grace  and  mercy.  Forgive  us  our  sins,  as  we  trust  in  thine  inexhaustible 
goodness;  and  lead  us  not  into  temptation,  but  deliver  us  from  evil.  Amen  !'  " 

Mr.  Cecil  has  well  said,  "Man  is  the  creature  of  extremes.  The  middle  path 
is  generally  the  wise  path,  but  there  are  few  wise  enough  to  find  it.  Because 
the  Papists  have  made  too  much  of  some  things,  the  Protestants  have  made 
too  little  of  them.  The  Papists  treat  man  as  all  sense  5  and  therefore  some 
Protestants  would  treat  him  as  all  spirit.  Because  one  party  has  exalted  the 
Virgin  Mary  to  a  divinity,  the  other  can  scarcely  think  of  that  most  highly 
favored  among  women  with  common  respect." — Remains,  p.  221. 


OF  THE  VIRGIN  MARY.  65 

early  ages,  this  still  holds  its  place  in  the  veneration  and  con 
fidence  of  millions,  and  is  now  controlling  the  destinies  of  multi 
tudes  of  men  and  women  who  are  doomed  to  a  state  of  being  at 
war  with  nature  and  the  God  of  Nature.  And  yet,  to  the  com 
bined  efforts  of  the  giant  minds  of  Ambrose,  Augustine,  and 
Jerome,  the  church  owes  the  perpetuity  of  this  dogma,  and 
all  the  institutions  and  consequences  which  have  existed  and 
exist,  and  which  have  been  founded  on  the  glory  they  have  con 
ferred  on  the  rare  and  difficult  and  uncalled-for  virtue  of  celibacy." 

"  And  was  it  a  belief  of  the  pure  and  primitive  ages  of  the 
church  ?"  inquired  Mrs.  Smith. 

"  What  ages  of  the  past  can  be  compared  with  the  present?" 
replied  the  Gentleman  in  Black,  in  a  tone  of  surprise. 

"  I  speak  of  the  centuries  immediately  following  the  days  of 
the  Apostles,  and  which  reach  to  the  Council  of  Nice,  including 
all  those  great  names  whose  works  you  have  just  referred  to," 
answered  Mrs.  Smith.  "  May  I  ask  how  early  this  miraculous 
virtue  was  attributed  to  the  Virgin  Mary?" 

"  It  is  not  exactly  known,"  replied  the  Gentleman  in  Black ; 
"  but  St.  Augustine,  whose  fame  reaches  all  lands,  holds  that  she 
was  as  much  a  virgin  after  the  birth  of  Christ  as  before!" 

"  But  how  could  such  a  notion  have  entered  his  head  ?"  asked 
Mrs.  Smith,  earnestly  ;  "  and  being  there,  how  could  it  for  a  mo 
ment  be  entertained?" 

"  It  was  entertained,"  replied  the  Gentleman  in  Black,  smiling, 
"  There  were  then,  as  in  later  days,  men  who,  like  Sir  Thomas 
Browne  in  his  '  Religio  Medici,'  complained  that  *  there  were  not 
impossibilities  enough  in  religion  for  their  active  faith,'  and  who 
heartily  adopted  the  axiom  of  Tertullian:  'It  is  certainly  true, 
because  it  is  impossible.'  "* 

"  In  order  to  secure  for  this  dogma  the  highest  possible  sanc 
tion,"  continued  the  Gentleman  in  Black,  "  Gregory  Nyssen  in 
sists  that  the  manner  of  Christ's  entering  the  world  was  a  tacit 
disparagement  of  marriage;  and  in  his  oration  on  Christmas  day, 
adopts  a  tradition  concerning  the  Virgin  Mary,  the  import  of  which 
is  to  secure  her  suffrage  in  support  of  vowing  virginity  in  very 
childhood.  Joseph,  we  are  told,  was  pitched  upon  as  the  guardian 
of  her  innocence ;  and  this  story,  which  was  introduced  by  Gre 
gory  as  apocryphal,  Augustine,  a  few  days  later,  alludes  to  as  an 
authentic  fact.  '  It  is  clear,'  says  he  in  his  work  '  De  Sanctua 

*  "Methinks  there  be  not  impossibilities  enough  in  religion  for  an  active 
faith.  I  love  to  lose  myself  in  a  mystery,  to  pursue  my  reason  to  an  O  alti- 
tudo!  I  can  answer  all  objections  of  Satan  and  my  rebellious  reason,  with 
that  odd  resolution  I  learned  from  Tertullian — '  Cerium  est  quice  impossibik 
est.'  "—Sir  Thomas  Browne. 


PETER  SCHLEMIHL. 


Virginitate,'  '  that  Mary  had  previously  (that  is,  before  ttffe  visit 
of  the  angel),  devoted  herself  to  GOD  in  inviolable  chastity;  and 
that  she  had  been  espoused  to  Joseph  on  this  very  condition.1 
All  which  is  affirmed,  that  Mary  might  '  furnish  an  example  to 
holy  nuns  in  all  time  to  come.'  The  greatest  stickler  for  this 
doctrine  was  St.  Bernard  ;  and  strange  as  it  may  appear,  this  doc 
trine  has  recently  been  raised  at  Oxford,  whose  divines  seem  de 
sirous  of  reviving  in  the  English  mind  all  the  blessedness  of  the 
Ccelibate;  and  we  shall  soon  again  hear  of  devout  boys  and  girls 
being  transformed  into  '  Terrestrial  Angels?  by  passing  through 
the  fiery  ordeal  of  celibacy." 

"  Such  a  dogma  seems  to  me,"  said  Mrs.  Smith,  "  nothing  less 
than  the  resuscitation  of  the  horrid  Moloch  of  the  ancient  Jews 
in  a  new  form,  and  must  certainly  be  nothing  less  than  the  device 
of  Satan  himself." 

The  Gentleman  in  Black  smiled,  and  said  :  "  Aristotle  tells  us 
never  to  call  up  the  gods  unnecessarily.*  Satan  has  many  things 
to  answer  for,  of  which  he  was  most  innocent.  To  me,  all  this 
is  satisfactorily  accounted  for,  from  misconceptions  of  some 
passages  of  the  Scriptures,  and  an  admixture  of  gnosticism,  which 
held  possession  of  the  religious  world  almost  universally,!  sus 
tained  as  the  sentiment  was,  as  I  have  stated,  by  the  giant  intellects 
of  the  Church  ;  and  Cyprian  speaks  of  it  in  his  day  as  among 
the  '  evangelic  and  apostolic  traditions,'  and  enforces  it,  though  it 
had  even  then  begun  to  work  out  its  legitimate  and  necessary 
consequences;  for  in  his  Epistles  he  says  :  'Wherefore,  it  is  by 
no  means  to  be  allowed  that  young  women  should  (non  dico 
simul  dormire)  Jive  with  men  ;  but  if  they  have  dedicated 
themselves  to  CHRIST,  let  them  modestly  and  chastely,  and 
without  subterfuge,  hold  to  their  purpose  ;  and  thus  constant  and 
firm,  look  for  the  reward  of  virginity." 

"  But  I  thought,"  said  Mrs.  Smith,  "  that  the  early  times  of  the 
Church  were,  next  to  those  of  the  Garden  of  Eden,  the  paradisi 
acal  days  of  the  world.  I  have  always  heard  them  so  spoken  of 
by  the  Rev.  Dr.  VERDANT  GREEN,  and  have  often  regretted  that 
I  too  had  not  lived  in  those  days  of  purity,  when  men  and  angels 
once  more  renewed  their  converse  on  earth." 


eturov    f    TOV  fJtvou  o-y/uaiv£tv,  Ha    fj,n 
Iv  TH  MJJ&EJ*  «TTO  ^un^avw;.  —  ARISTOT.  POET.  18. 

'Nee  Deus  intersit  nisi  dignus  vindice  nodus 
Incident:"  —  HORACE. 

f  '  It  was  the  seductive  gnostic  principle  which  made  the  conditions  of 
animal  life,  and  the  common  alliances  of  man  in  the  social  system,  the 
antithesis  of  divine  perfections;  and  so  to  be  escaped  from  and  denied,  by  all 
who  panted  after  the  highest  excellence."  —  TAYLOR. 


LADIES  OF  CARTHAGE.  67 

"  Such  representations  of  the  early  days  of  Christianity  are  no 
doubt  very  delightful,  and  it  is  only  to  be  regretted  that  they  are 
not  true.  And  yet  the  description  which  Paul  gives  of  the  church 
at  Corinth  was  anything  but  flattering;  and  such  a  church,  even 
in  Babylon  the  Less,  which  had  changed  the  Supper  into  a 
bacchanalian  feast,  would  be  deemed  a  disgrace  to  the  age  and 
country.  It  is  common  to  speak  of  these  ages  as  the  pure  ages 
of  the  Church  ;  yet  I  can  assure  you,  and  I  don't  think  I'm  at 
all  prejudiced  in  the  matter,  there  has  never  existed  an  era  when 
the  principles  of  Christianity  have  been  so  well  taught  and  under 
stood  as  the  present." 

"  In  all  these  matters,"  said  Mrs.  Smith,  "  I  have  long  since 
become  very  skeptical ;  but  yet  the  constant  iteration  of  these 
assertions  have  still  dwelt  upon  my  mind  as  acknowledged  verities. 
And  it  seems  strange  to  me  that  such  corruptions  could  have  been 
engrafted  on  an  age  so  recently  purified  by  the  fires  of  persecution." 

"  So  we  might  have  supposed ;  yet,  from  the  Epistles  of  Cyprian, 
it  is  evident  that  the  ladies  of  Carthage  sought  to  indemnify 
themselves  for  their  abjuration  of  the  virtues  of  domestic  life,  by 
becoming  proficients  in  every  meretricious  allurement;  not  merely 
bestowing  extraordinary  cares  and  costs  upon  the  attractions  of 
dress  and  jewelry,  and  frequenting  scenes  of  indecent  revelry, 
but  inviting  and  allowing  the  grossest  familiarities  on  the  part  of 
their  spiritual  guides,  to  whom  they  had  too  easy  access  ;  and  even 
yielding  themselves  to  shameful  exposures  in  the  public  baths; 
of  which  ablutions  the  good  bishop  well  and  smartly  says,  '  Such 
washings  do  not  cleanse,  but  pollute  the  body  ;  and  not  only  the 
body,  but  the  soul.'*  That  such  indecencies  of  the  Carthaginian 
women  were  not  a  singular  instance  of  irregularity,  may  be 
gathered  from  the  very  express  and  detailed  reference  to  the  same 
practices,  made  some  years  earlier  by  Clement  of  Alexandria. 
So  much,  madam,  for  the  boasted  purity  of  the  pristine  age  of 
the  Church." 

"But  by  what  course  of  instruction,"  inquired  Mrs.  Smith, 
"  could  Marriage,  an  institution  honored  by  the  presence  of 
Christ,  and  confirmed  by  his  first  miracle,  come  into  disrepute  ? 
This  is,  after  all,  quite  a  mystery  to  me." 

"It  is  by  no  means  difficult  to  show  this  as  the  consequence  of 
the  misconceptions  I  have  alluded  to  ;  and  as  a  necessary  effect 
following  the  eloquence  and  rhetoric  devoted  to  the  elevation  of 
the  honors  of  virginity.  Let  me  read  you  a  passage  from  St. 
Bernard,"  said  the  Gentleman  in  Black.  Taking  the  volume  from 
the  shelf,  and  opening  it  at  the  subjoined  passage,  he  read  on  as 
follows  : 

*  TAYLOR'S  Ancient  Christianity,  p.  118. 


68  PETER  SCHLEMIHL. 

"  '  What  is  so  fair  as  chastity,  which  makes  of  a  man  an  angel  ? 
A  chaste  man  and  an  angel  differ  as  to  felicity,  but  not  as  to 
virtue  ;  for,  although  the  purity  of  the  angel  be  the  happier  of  the 
two,  that  of  man  must  be  admitted  to  be  the  more  energetic.  It 
is  chastity,  and  that  alone,  which  in  this  abode  of  mortality  holds 
forth  the  state  of  immortal  glory.  This  is  the  glory  of  a  single 
life,  to  live  the  life  of  an  angel,  while  occupying  the  body  as  of  a 
beast.'  He  goes  on  to  say:  *  Who  then  should  scruple  to  call 
the  life  of  a  religious  Crelebs  a  celestial,  an  angelic  life  ? — or  what 
will  all  the  elect  be  in  the  resurrection,  when  even  now  ye  are  as 
the  angels  of  God  who  abstain  from  matrimonial  connections  ? 
.  .  .  And  as  to  chastity  and  sanctity,  I  may  call  you  terrestrial 
angels,  or  rather  as  citizens  of  heaven,  although  still  pilgrims  upon 
earth.'  And  if  all  this  was  attractive  to  men,  how  must  such  a 
passage  as  the  one  I  will  now  read  you,  have  thrilled  in  the  souls 
of  young  girls,  as  it  came  warm  with  the  eloquence  of  the  silver- 
tongued  Chrysostom  !"  So  saying,  the  Gentleman  in  Black  took 
from  the  shelves  a  ponderous  volume,  and  read  to  Mrs.  Smith, 
whose  face  showed  the  deepest  interest  in  the  subject,  the  following 
passage : 

44 '  The  virgin,  when  she  goes  abroad,  presents  herself  as  the 
bright  specimen  of  all  philosophy,  and  strikes  all  with  amaze 
ment,  as  if  now  an  angel  had  descended  from  heaven  ;  or  just  as 
if  one  of  the  cherubim  had  appeared  upon  earth,  and  was  turn 
ing  the  eyes  of  all  men  upon  himself.  So  should  all  those  who 
look  upon  a  virgin  be  thrown  into  admiration  and  stupor  at  the 
sight  of  her  sanctity.  And  when  she  advances,  she  moves  as 
through  a  desert ;  or  when  she  sits  at  church,  it  is  with  the  pro- 
foundest  silence  :  her  eye  catches  nothing  of  the  objects  around 
her ;  she  sees  neither  women  nor  men,  but  her  Spouse  only,  and 
He  as  if  apparent  and  present ;  and  then  retiring  to  her  home, 
there  she  again  communes  with  Him  in  prayers,  and  His  voice 
alone  she  listens  to,  in  the  Scriptures;  and  of  Him  there  she 
thinks,  whom  she  desires  and  loves  ;  and  whatever  she  does,  it 
is  as  a  pilgrim  and  a  stranger,  to  whom  things  present  are  as  no 
thing.  Not  only  does  she  hide  herself  from  the  eyes  of  men, 
but  avoids  the  society  of  secular  women  also.  The  body  she 
takes  care  of  only  so  far  as  necessity  compels  her,  while  she 
bestows  all  her  regards  upon  the  soul :  and  who  shall  not  marvel 
at  her  ?  who  shall  not  be  in  ecstacy,  in  thus  beholding  the  angelic 
life  embodied  in  a  female  form  ?  And  who  is  it  that  shall  dare 
approach  her  ?  who  shall  venture  to  touch  this  flaming  spirit  ? 
Nay,  rather  all  stand  aloof,  willing  or  unwilling.  All  are  fixed 
in  amazement,  as  if  there  were  before  their  eyes  a  mass  of  incan 
descent  and  sparkling  gold !  Gold  hath  indeed  by  nature  its 


THE  COLLOQUIES  OF  ERASMUS.  69 

splendor;  but  when  saturate  with  fire,  how  admirable,  nay,  even 
fearful,  is  it !  And  thus,  when  a  soul  such  as  this  occupies  the 
body,  not  only  shall  the  spectacle  be  wondered  at  by  men,  but 
even  angels." 

"  It  is  indeed  no  wonder,"  said  Mrs.  Smith,  as  the  Gentleman 
in  Black  closed  the  book,  "  that  such  adulation  should  have  filled, 
in  this  early  age,  the  minds  of  ardent  girls  with  zeal  for  the  crown 
of  virginity." 

"  Not  in  that  age  only,  but  in  all  ages,  my  dear  madam,"  re 
plied  the  Gentleman  in  Black.  "  The  same  passions  lie  in  every 
breast,  and  are  susceptible  of  being  awakened.  Erasmus  has,  in 
this  volume,"  taking  down  the  Colloquies  of  Erasmus,*  "given 
us  a  most  admirable  dialogue  with  a  young  girl  of  his  day,  who 
has  had  what  Sir  Roger  L'Estrange  has  translated  *  a  phansie  to 
a  cloyster,'  which  has  been  opposed  by  her  parents,  who,  after 
great  affliction,  consent  to  it.  Erasmus  introduces  a  friend  of  the 
family,  who  dissuades  her,  and  lays  before  her  the  snares  and 
dangers  of  this  course  of  life,  and  the  artifices  by  which  this  de 
sire  has  been  created.  The  young  girl  who  speaks  is  repre 
sented  as  just  seventeen,  of  singular  beauty  and  endowments. 
She  says:  4  It  will  certainly  be  my  death  if  I  am  disappointed.' 

"  ERASMUS.  What  was  it  that  first  gave  rise  to  such  a  fatal  re- 
solution  ? 

"  CATHARINE.  When  I  was  a  little  girl,  they  carried  me  into 
the  cloisters,  and  showed  me  the  whole  college  ;  the  chapels  were 
so  neat,  and  the  gardens  so  clean,  so  delicate,  and  so  well-ordered, 
that  I  fell  in  love  with  them  ;  and  then  they  themselves  were  so 
pure  and  glorious  that  they  looked  like  angels ;  so  that,  in  short, 
which  way  soever  I  turned  my  eye,  there  were  comfort  and  plea 
sure  :  and  then  I  had  the  prettiest  discourses  with  the  nuns  !  I 
found  two  there  who  had  been  my  playfellows  when  I  was  a 
child.  But  I  have  always  had  a  strange  passion  for  that  kind  of 
life. 

"  ERASMUS.  I  have  no  quarrel  as  to  the  Rules  and  Orders  of 
Cloisters,  though  the  same  thing  can  never  agree  with  all  per 
sons.  If  I  were  to  speak  my  opinion,  I  should  think  it  more 
suitable  to  your  genius  and  manners  to  take  a  good  husband,  and 
set  up  a  college  in  your  own  house,  where  he  should  be  the  father 
of  it  and  you  the  mother. 

"  CATHARINE.  I'll  rather  die  than  quit  my  resolution  of  vir 
ginity  ! 

"  ERASMUS.  Nay,  'tis  an  admirable  thing  to  be  a  pure  maid ;  but 
cannot  you  keep  yourself  so  without  running  yourself  into  a 
prison,  never  to  come  out  again? 

*  London  edition  of  1699:  p.  109. 


70  PETER  SCHLEMIHL. 

"  CATHARINE.     Yes,  I  may  ;  but  'tis  not  so  safe,  though. 

"  ERASMUS.  Much  safer,  truly,  in  my  judgment,  than  with  these 
brawling,  swilling  monks.  Let  me  tell  you,  there  are  more  veils 
than  virgins ;  indeed,  I  never  read  of  any  more  than  one  virgin, 
and  she  was  a  mother. 

"CATHARINE.  I  do  not  understand  you.  My  head  runs  strangely 
upon  this  course  of  life,  though  ;  and  my  passion  for  it  every  day 
grows  stronger  and  stronger.  Now,  if  this  were  not  inspired  into 
me  from  above,  this  disposition,  I  am  persuaded,  would  have  gone 
off  long  ago. 

"  ERASMUS.  If  it  were  good,  Heaven  would  have  inclined  your 
parents  to  favor  the  notion  ;  but  the  gay  things  you  saw  when 
you  were  a  child ;  the  tittle-tattle  of  the  nuns,  and  the  hankering 
you  have  after  your  old  acquaintances ;  the  external  pomp  of 
their  worship;  the  importunities  of  their  senseless  monks,  who 
only  hunt  for  proselytes  that  they  may  cram  their  own  paunches  ; 
here's  the  ground  of  your  affection.  They  know  your  father  to 
be  frank  and  bountiful,  and  this  is  the  way  they  make  fun  of  their 
tipple;  for  they  either  drink  with  him,  or  else  invite  him,  and  he 
brings  as  much  wine  along  with  him  as  ten  lusty  soakers  can 
swallow.  Do  nothing,  therefore,  without  your  parents'  consent, 
whom  GOD  hath  set  over  you  as  your  guardians. 

"  CATHARINE.  But  what  is  a  father  or  a  mother  in  respect  of 
Christ? 

"  And  so,"  continued  the  Gentleman  in  Black,  "  Catharine  per 
sists  in  her  resolution,  and  goes  into  the  nunnery.  In  this  next 
colloquy  she  is  again  introduced,  having  been  twelve  days  in  the 
cloister.  Erasmus  asks  her,  '  How  came  your  parents  to  con 
sent  at  last?' 

"CATHARINE.  Betwixt  the  restless  solicitations  of  the  monks 
and  nuns,  and  my  own  importunities  and  tears,  my  mother  at  last 
relented,  but  my  father  would  not  be  wrought  upon.  In  the  end, 
he  was  prevailed  upon  to  yield,  as  a  man  absolutely  oppressed 
and  overcome.  The  resolution  was  taken  in  their  cups,  and  the 
monks  preached  no  less  than  damnation  to  him,  if  he  refused  to 
CHRIST  His  spouse. 

"  ERASMUS.     A  pack  of  flagitious  fools  !     But  what  then  ? 

"  CATHARINE.  I  was  kept  close  at  home  for  three  days,  and 
several  of  the  convent  were  constantly  with  me;  mightily  en 
couraging  me  to  persist  in  my  holy  purpose,  and  as  narrowly 
watching  me,  lest  any  of  my  friends  and  kindred  should  come  to 
me,  and  make  me  change  my  mind.  In  the  interim,  my  habits 
were  ready,  and  other  necessaries,  for  the  solemnity. 

"ERASMUS.     And  did  not  your  mind  misgive  you? 

"  CATHARINE.     No,  not  at  all.    And  yet  I  had  so  horrid  a  fright, 


THE  COLLOQUIES  OF  ERASMUS.  71 

that  I  had  rather  die  ten  times  over,  than  be  in  that  condition 
again. 

"  ERASMUS.  What  might  that  be  ?  Come,  tell  me  truly  :  I  am 
your  friend. 

"  CATHARINE.     I  had  a  most  dreadful  apparition  ! 

"  ERASMUS.  Your  Evil  Genius,  who  pushed  you  forward  into 
disobedience ;  and  in  the  shape,  I  suppose,  we  see  it  painted, 
with  a  crooked  beak,  long  horns,  harpy's  claws,  and  a  swinging 
tail? 

"  CATHARINE.  You  may  laugh,  if  you  will,  but  I  had  rather 
sink  to  the  earth  than  see  the  fellow  of  it ! 

"  ERASMUS.  And  were  your  women-solicitoresses  with  you  at 
the  time  ? 

"CATHARINE.  No.  And  I  would  not  so  much  as  open  my 
mouth  to  them  of  it,  though  they  sifted  me  most  particularly;  for 
you  must  know,  they  found  me  almost  dead  with  the  terror. 

44  You  see,"  said  the  Gentleman  in  Black,  44that  though  Eras 
mus  does  not  say  this  was  a  contrivance  of  these  monks  and 
nuns,  he  broadly  hints  it.  The  dialogue  goes  on  to  show  Catha 
rine  wide  awake  to  the  danger  in  which  she  was  placed,  arid  that 
at  her  earnest  cries  and  tears,  she  was  relinquished  by  the  monks, 
on  the  payment  of  four  hundred  crowns  ;  and  concludes  by  Eras 
mus  saying:  4  Oh  !  these  guttling  nuptials  !  but  since  the  money 
is  gone,  'tis  well  you  are  yourself  safe.  Hereafter,  hearken  to 
good  advice.'  Catharine  replies,  4  So  I  will ;  a  burnt  child  dreads 
the  fire.'  " 

44  And  is  that  the  writing  of  Erasmus,  the  great  champion  of 
the  Church,  and  the  opponent  of  Luther?"  inquired  Mrs.  Smith, 
with  surprise. 

44  Yes,  my  dear  madam :  such  were  the  efforts  of  Erasmus  to 
save  the  Church  from  the  corruptions  introduced  into  it  by  these 
primitive  fathers,  and  which  had  ripened  in  his  day  to  a  degree 
of  profligacy  which  admitted  of  no  remedy  less  searching  than 
the  knife,  as  applied  by  Luther,  though  the  caustic,  as  applied  by 
himself,  must  have  been  deemed  by  these  monks  and  nuns  rather 
harsh  treatment." 

44  Ah  !"  exclaimed  the  Gentleman  in  Black,  with  a  smile  of  sin- 
cerest  satisfaction,  passing  his  fingers  over  seventeen  folio  volumes, 
44  here  is  the  angelical  doctor  !  the  Emanuel  Swedenborg  of  the 
Catholic  Church  !"  And  taking  out  a  volume,  and  opening  it, 
he  said  :  44  Here  is  the  celebrated  4  Summa  Totius  Theologize? 
Paris,  1615,  of  Thomas  Aquinas." 

44  Why  was  he  called  the  angelical  doctor?"  inquired  Mrs. 
Smith. 

44  From  his  wonderful  revelations.     It  is  said  of^him,  that  by 


72  PETER  SCHLEMIHL. 

his  daily  and  constant  contemplations,  to  which  he  was  devoted, 
that  he  frequently  fell  into  an  ecstacy  of  mind,  in  which  he  seemed 
to  all  present  to  be  dead,  yet  in  the  mean  time  he  gained  the 
knowledge  of  the  most  abstruse  mysteries ;  and  being  returned 
to  himself,  he  imparted  the  fruits  of  this  his  philosophic  death  to 
others,  and  the  results  of  which  he  has  here  recorded."* 

"  Indeed  !"  said  Mrs.  Smith;  "  this  is  placing  his  writings  on 
very  high  grounds,  and  the  fact  must  have  given  him  great  influ 
ence  in  his  day ;  and  yet  I  suppose,  if  this  be  so,  he  must  have 
been  a  subject  of  what  we  now  call  animal  magnetism.  You 
have  doubtless  heard  of  such  cases,  in  which  sermons  have  been 
preached,  by  ladies  even,  in  a  state  of  similar  unconsciousness  ?" 

"  Certainly  I  have ;  and  such  cases  have  often  occurred  in 
different  countries  and  at  different  times.  Old  Fuller,  in  his 
Worthies,!  tells  us  of  the  boy  William  Withers,  who  in  1581, 
when  a  child  of  eleven  years  of  age,  lay  in  a  trance  for  ten  days 
without  any  nourishment,  and  uttered  strange  speeches  against 
pride  and  covetousness  and  the  sins  of  the  day.  PHnyJ  also 
tells  of  Hermotimus,  the  Clazomenian,  whose  soul  frequently 
deserted  his  body  and  wandered  about  the  world,  and  at  his  re 
turn  would  tell  of  things  performed  at  a  distance  which  could  only 
be  known  to  those  who  were  present  at  the  places  spoken  of  by 
him.  Johannes  Scotus, §  (known  to  the  world  as  the  famous 
Duns  Scotus,)  too,  had  also  his  trances,  and  would  sit  for  the  space 
of  a  day  immovable,  with  his  mind  and  senses  wandering  from 
his  body.  And  the  fates  of  these  men  were  as  remarkable  as 
their  conditions  of  mind ;  for  Hermotimus  was  found  in  one  of 
his  trances  by  his  enemies,  who  burned  his  body ;  and  Duns 
Scotus  in  like  manner  was  found  by  some  unacquainted  with  his 
idiosyncrasy,  and  so  buried  alive. "|| 

"  This  is  indeed  as  disastrous  as  it  is  wonderful,"  replied  Mrs. 
Smith,  "  and  a  warning  to  which  our  Mesmerists  would  do  well 
to  take  heed.  Of  what  does  your  angelical  doctor  tell  us  in  this 
stout  quarto?"  asked  Mrs..  Smith. 

"  He  has  here  treated,"  replied  the  Gentleman  in  Black,  "  upon 
Love,  in  one  hundred  and  sixty-eight  articles;  he  has  devoted 
three  hundred  and  fifty-eight  articles  on  Angels,  two  hundred  on 

*  Zuing.,  Theatr.,  vol.  i.  1.  3,  p.  223.     f  Fuller's  Worthies,  p.  113. 

J  Pliny,  1.  7,  ch.  lii.  p.  184.  §  Sabellic,  Exempl.,  1.  2,  ch.  vi.  p.  89. 

||  Lord  Bacon  says — "  There  have  been  such  examples,  whereof  the  most 
recent  was  that  of  Johannes  Scotus,  called  the  Subtile,  who  being  digged  up 
again  by  his  servant  (unfortunately  absent  at  his  burial,  and  who  knew  his 
Master's  manner  in  such  fits)  was  found  buried  alive." — History  of  Life  and 
Death,  chapter  x.  sect.  34. 


OF  THOMAS  AQUINAS.  73 

the  Soul,  eighty-five  on  Demons,  seventeen  on  Virginity,  and  a 
variety  of  such  topics.  In  these  he  speaks  of  the  substance, 
orders,  offices,  natures  and  habits  of  angels,  as  if  he  were  himself 
an  old  experienced  angel ;  and  demonstrates,  by  a  severe  chain 
of  reasoning,  that  angels  are  incorporeal  as  compared  with  man, 
but  corporeal  as  compared  with  GOD.  Thomas  was  the  father  of 
the  schoolmen,  by  whom  was  debated  with  the  utmost  gravity, 
all  such  questions  as  these :  Whether  Christ  was  not  a  Herma 
phrodite  ?  whether  the  pious  at  the  resurrection  will  rise  with 
their  bowels  ?  whether  the  angel  Gabriel  appeared  to  the  Virgin 
Mary  in  the  shape  of  a  serpent,  of  a  dove,  of  a  man,  or  of  a 
woman  ?  Did  he  seem  to  be  old  or  young?  In  what  dress  was 
he  ?  Was  his  garment  of  white,  or  of  two  colors  ?  Was  his 
linen  clean  or  foul  ?  Did  he  appear  in  the  morning,  noon  or  even 
ing?  What  was  the  color  of  the  Virgin  Mary's  hair?  Was  she 
acquainted  with  the  mechanic  or  liberal  arts  ?  Had  she  a  thorough 
knowledge  of  the  '  Book  of  Sentences,'  and  all  it  contains  ?  that 
is,  of  Peter  Lombard's  compilation  from  the  works  of  the  Fathers, 
written  twelve  hundred  years  after  her  death  !"* 

"Are  you  not  romancing?"  said  Mrs.  Smith,  looking  very 
earnestly  into  the  face  of  the  Gentleman  in  Black. 

44  Certainly  not ;  and  to  show  you  that  the  subject  was  by  no 
means  exhausted,  here  is  the  celebrated  and  rare  folio,  by  a 
Spanish  Jesuit,  published  at  Salamanca  so  late  as  1652,  entitled 
4  the  EMPYREOLOGIA,'  in  which  are  described,  with  the  greatest 
complacency,  the  joys  of  heaven;  and  which,  though  strange 
enough,  were  surpassed  by  another  Jesuit  writer,  who  gives  us 
yet  more  particular  accounts,  and  positively  assures  us  that  men 
and  women  are  to  enjoy  the  supremest  pleasure  in  kissing  each 
other  in  those  blessed  abodes ;  where  they  will  bathe  in  each 
other's  presence,  and  for  this  purpose  there  will  be  the  most 
agreeable  baths,  in  which  the  Happy  will  swim  like  fishes  ;  that  the 
angels  will  dress  themselves  in  female  habits,  their  hair  curled, 
wearing  petticoats  and  fardingales,  and  with  the  finest  linen  ;  that 
men  and  women  will  amuse  themselves  in  masquerades,  feasts 
and  balls  ;  women  will  sing  more  agreeably  than  men  to  heighten 
those  entertainments,  and  at  the  resurrection  will  have  more  luxu 
riant  tresses,  ornamented  with  ribbons  and  head-dresses,  as  in  this 
life."t 

"  It  seems  to  me,"  exclaimed  Mrs.  Smith,  "  impossible  that 
such  things  could  ever  have  been  written,  much  less  printed." 

"  To  me,"  replied  the  Gentleman  in  Black,  "  these  subjects  do 
not  seem  quite  so  absurd  as  the  grave  dispute  which  occupied 

*  SHARON  TURNER'S  Analysis.  "f  D'!SRAEH. 


74  PETER  SCHLEMIHL. 

thousands  of  acutest  schoolmen  and  logicians  for  more  than  a 
century,  and  which,  after  all  the  debate,  was  never  resolved." 

"  Pray,  may  I  inquire  what  was  the  topic  ?" 

"  It  was  this  :  when  a  hog  is  carried  to  market,  with  a  rope  tied 
about  his  neck,  which  is  held  at  the  one  end  by  a  man,  whether, 
is  the  hog  carried  to  the  market  by  the  rope  or  by  the  man?"* 

"  What  could  have  possessed  men  with  such  puerilities  ?"  said 
Mrs.  Smith. 

"It  was  the  policy  of  Rome  so  to  exhaust  the  activity  of  the 
human  mind  in  speculations  which  kept  it  in  full  occupation,  and 
left  the  power  of  the  Papacy  unharmed." 

"  But  where  was  the  Bible  all  this  while  ?  It  seems  to  me," 
said  Mrs.  Smith,  "that  such  speculations  as  these  could  never 
have  grown  up  under  its  teachings." 

"  The  Bible  ! "  exclaimed  the  Gentleman  in  Black  ;  "  oh  !  that 
was  what  the  Sir  Archy  McSycophants  of  those  days  would  have 
told  you  was  an  'unparliamentary  word.'  The  Bible  was  long 
after  lying  in  the  rubbish  of  the  monasteries  an  unknown  book." 

"And  why  was  this  ?" 

"  It  were  a  long  story  to  tell  you  the  strange  fortunes  of  that 
book,  which  has  oftentimes  seemed  all  but  lost  to  the  world.t 
Its  recent  history  is  better  known  ;  and  of  all  its  many  versions,  the 
most  surprising  was  a  Spanish  translation  by  Sebastian  Castil- 
lon,  in  which  he  fancied  he  could  give  the  world  a  more  classical 
version,  and  for  this  purpose  introduced  phrases  and  sentences 
from  profane  writers  into  the  text ;  and  not  to  be  outdone  by  the 
Spanish  version,  Pere  Burruyer  made  a  version,  which  he  styled 
the  'Histoire  du  peuple  de  Dieu ;'  and  conceiving  the  style  of 
the  Scriptures  to  be  too  barren,  he  has  given  us  this  improved 
version,  of  which  I  will  read  you  a  few  passages."  So  saying, 
the  Gentleman  in  Black  took  the  book  down  from  the  shelf, 'and 
turning  to  the  life  of  Joseph,  he  read,  to  the  astonishment  of  Mrs. 
Smith,  as  follows: 

"'Joseph  combined  with  a  regularity  of  features  and  a  brilliant 
complexion,  an  air  of  the  noblest  dignity,  all  of  which  rendered 
him  one  of  the  most  amiable  men  in  Egypt.'  .  .  .  4  The 
wife  of  Potiphar  at  length  declared  her  ardent  passion,  and 
pressed  him  for  an  answer.  It  never  entered  her  head  that  the 
advances  of  a  woman  of  her  rank  could  ever  be  rejected.  Joseph 
at  first  replied  to  all  her  wishes  by  his  cold  embarrassments.  She 
would  not  give  him  up.  In  vain  he  flies  from  her  ;  she  was  too 
passionate  to  waste  the  moments  of  his  astonishment' 

"  Enough  !"  exclaimed  Mrs.  Smith,  taking  the  book  from  the 

*  D'IsBAEti.  f  See  n  Chronicles,  chap,  xxxiv. 


VERSIONS  OF  THE  BIBLE.  75 

hand  of  the  Gentleman  in  Black,  and  replacing  it  on  the  shelf; 
"  no  more  of  such  *  Elegant  Extracts,'  if  you  please." 

The  Gentleman  in  Black  laughed  heartily  at  the  movement. 

"  Thank  Heaven,"  said  Mrs.  Smith,  "  all  this  is  French  and 
Spanish  !  The  English  mind  has  never  been  guilty  of  such 
absurdities." 

"  Are  you  so  certain  of  it  ?"  asked  the  Gentleman  in  Black  ; 
"  you  can  never  have  seen  the  Bible  put  into  verse  by  a  worthy 
Scotch  divine,  who  seems  to  have  determined  not  to  be  outdone 
by  these  worthy  predecessors;  for  in  it  occurs  the  most  remark 
able  of  all  Alexandrines  the  world  has  ever  seen." 

"  I'm  sure,"  said  Mrs.  Smith,  "  I  shall  now  be  surprised  at 
nothing  you  can  tell  me  ;  but  what  was  this  Alexandrine  ?" 

"  Speaking  of  the  refusal  of  Pharaoh  to  release  the  children  of 
Israel,  he  says : 

*"Now  Pharaoh,  was  he  not  a  saucy  rascal, 

Who  would  not  let  the  children  of  Israel,  and  their  wives  and  little  ones,  with 
their  flocks  and  their  herds,  go  up  to  eat  the  Paschal !'" 

"  I  wonder  who  this  man  is  !"  thought  Mrs.  Smith,  strangely 
mystified  by  the  course  which  the  conversation  had  taken.  Now 
as  the  Gentleman  in  Black  was  not  at  all  conscious  of  the  state  of 
mind  he  had  created,  he  went  on  to  say,  in  a  quiet  easy  tone  : 

"  It  may  seem  surprising  to  you,  my  dear  madam,  that  with 
all  these  absurdities  in  existence,  and  of  which  he  must  have  been 
advised,  so  great  a  man  as  the  Archbishop  Tillotson  had  formed 
the  design  of  an  expurgated  edition  of  the  Bible,  so  that,  had  his 
purpose  been  completed,  we  should  have  had  not  only  a  family 
Shakspeare,  but  also  a  family  Bible." 

44  Pardon  me,  if  I  presume  to  say,"  replied  Mrs.  Smith,  "  that 
I  too  have  thought  a  family  Bible  would  be  desirable,  and  I 
believe  it  has  been  attempted  by  Noah  Webster,  but  I  have  never 
seen  it." 

44  That,  madam,  must  be  a  perilous  labor  which  presumes  to 
refine  pure  gold,  or  to  add  perfume  to  the  violet ;  the  hues  of  the 
sky,  of  the  earth  and  the  sea,  are  adapted  to  the  eye  because  the 
same  GOD  made  them  all.  And  such  are  the  Scriptures  to  the 
soul." 

44  He  certainly  must  be  a  divine  !"  thought  Mrs.  Smith.  "  Is  it 
then  so  faultless,"  asked  Mrs.  Smith,  44  that  it  can't  be  improved  ?" 

44  Certainly  not :  the  text  should  be  inviolable.  The  arrange 
ment  of  the  books  as  they  now  stand  is  most  artificial  and 
unfortunate  ;  and  it  is  a  matter  of  surprise  that  this,  which  is  the 
work  of  man,  should  still  be  retained,  and  that  the  labors  of 
Lightfoot  and  Townsend  find  so  few  to  appreciate  them." 


76  PETER  SCHLEMIHL. 

"May  I  ask  of  what  you  speak?  I  have  heard  of  neither." 
"  I  refer,"  replied  the  Gentleman  in  Black,  "  to  the  *  arrange 
ment  of  the  Scriptures  in  their  chronological  order.''  The 
books  of  the  Bible  were  written,  you  know,  at  different  periods, 
and  the  lyrics  were  penned  at  critical  conjunctures  of  the  history 
of  the  Jews,  by  David  and  Asaph  and  others ;  the  prophets  were 
prophesying,  and  some  of  them  at  the  same  time  in  Babylon  and 
at  Jerusalem  ;  now  there  is  a  thread  of  history  in  the  historical 
books,  upon  which  all  these  are  susceptible  of  being  strung,  and 
which  holds  all  together  in  their  proper  places  ;  and  this  arrange 
ment  makes  connected  and  plain  what  is  now,  for  want  of  it, 
obscure  to  all  but  the  few  by  whom  all  these  conditions  of  the 
two  nations  of  Judah  and  Israel  have  been  mastered,  and  the 
times  of  these  lyrics  and  prophecies  understood.  To  arrange 
these  several  distinct  books,  songs  and  prophecies,  has  been  the 
work  of  years  of  toil,  and  has  been  recently  perfected  by  George 
Townsend,  whose  Bible  has  been  reprinted  in  this  country,  but 
as  yet  is  known  to  but  few  of  the  many  who  value  the  Bible  as 
the  best  of  Books." 

"  This  gentleman,"  thought  Mrs.  Smith,  "  must  be  a  minister; 
but  of  what  sect  ?  I  will  certainly  contrive  to  make  him  show 
his  hand." 


CHAPTER   V. 

In  which  Mrs.  Smith  describes  the  "  Virtuous  Indignation  Society"  of  Baby 
lon  the  Less — Mrs.  Tripp's  account  of  Mrs.  Van  Dam's  proposed  re 
union  with  her  husband — The  Gentleman  in  Black  shows  the  sad  conse 
quences,  should  the  example  of  Zaccheus  be  adopted  by  the  people  of 
Babylon — Cites  the  probable  effects  in  "  Change  Alley,"  and  in  the  cir 
cles  of  Mrs.  Smith's  fashionable  friends — Mrs.  Smith  makes  a  discovery 
as  to  the  pursuits  of  the  Gentleman  in  Black,  who  claims  the  paternity  of 
Fourierism. 

THE  Gentleman  in  Black,  having  replaced  the  volume  on  the 
shelf  of  the  library,  stood,  for  a  moment,  ranging  his  eye  along 
the  shelves  ;  when,  as  if  a  thought  had  presented  itself,  he  turned 
towards  Mrs.  Smith,  who  was  herself  occupied  with  the  design 
she  had  formed,  how  best  to  direct  the  conversation  to  discover 
who  her  guest  was  ;  and  after  a  slight  embarrassment,  in  which 


REV.  DOCT.  VERDANT  GREEN.  77 

both  seemed  to  participate,  as  if  their  thoughts  had  been,  perhaps, 
discovered,  he  politely  led  the  lady  to  her  seat,  and  resumed  his 
own. 

The  Gentleman  in  Black  once  more  filled  the  goblets,  one  of 
which  he  manipulated  as  before,  and  handing  it  to  Mrs.  Smith, 
bowed,  as  if  expecting  her  to  drink  her  glass  with  him  ;  this,  how 
ever,  she  quietly  declined  ;  but  the  Gentleman  in  Black,  saying 
his  drinking  the  wine  of  his  own  goblet  would  depend  on  her 
pledging  him,  she  bowed  acquiescence,  and  reached  to  take  the 
glass,  which,  by  some  inconceivable  carelessness  on  her  part,  she 
again  upset. 

"  There  seems  some  fatality  in  all  this,"  said  Mrs.  Smith ; 
"  and  although  I  have  no  pledge  to  violate,  my  nerves  seem  deter 
mined  to  play  me  false  to-night." 

"It  is,  indeed,  very  strange,"  replied  the  Gentleman  in  Black, 
looking  suspiciously  around  the  room.  "Allow  me  the  pleasure 
of  refilling  your  goblet." 

"  Oh,  no  !  I  will  not  tempt  my  fate  farther !"  said  Mrs.  Smith, 
with  one  of  her  sweet  smiles. 

The  Gentleman  in  Black  was  evidently  disconcerted ;  but  after 
drinking  the  wine  in  his  own  goblet,  he  renewed  the  conversation 
by  inquiring,  "If  the  author  of  the  volume  of  sermons  which 
was  lying  before  him,  on  the  table,  was  the  parsonic-looking  gen 
tleman  who  seemed  so  devout,  and  devoted  to  the  highly-dressed 
lady  in  the  black  velvet  dress,  so  richly  endowed  with  diamonds?" 

"  No,  indeed  !  You  have  hit  upon  a  very  different  character, 
I  assure  you.  That  was  the  Rev.  Dr.  Verdant  Green,  a  dis 
tinguished  divine  among  us,  who  is  considered  most  eminently 
Rubrical:1 

"  However  that  may  be,"  replied  the  Gentleman  in  Black, 
with  a  smile,  "  I  think  there's  no  question  of  his  being  very  ru- 
bicund." 

"  Yes,"  said  Mrs.  Smith,  with  a  gay  laugh,  "  that  is  unquestion 
able  ;  and  can  you  tell  me  how  it  is  that  rubricity  and  rubicund- 
ity  should  be  so  inseparable  ?" 

"  It  is  very  certain  they  are,"  replied  the  Gentleman  in  Black ; 
"  and  I  presume  it  arises  from  the  universality  of  the  rule,  that 
those  who  prescribe  fasts  to  others,  in  order  to  preserve  that  due 
equilibrium  which  is  a  law  of  Nature,  replenish  their  own  sto 
machs  while  they  keep  others  empty,  so  that  the  average  is  thus 
preserved.  May  I  ask,  who  was  the  lady  ?" 

"  Is  it  possible  that  you  don't  know  Mrs.  Van  Dam  ?  She 
would  be  greatly  offended  to  suppose  it  possible  that  she  was  un 
known  by  any  one  of  my  guests  !  Mrs.  Van  Dam  is,  as  you 
must  have  seen,  a  very  distinguished  personage,  who  aspires,  not 


78  PETER  SCHLEMIHL. 

only  to  High  Church  in  religion,  but  high  rank  in  society.  In 
deed,  she  has  been  for  the  last  three  weeks,  so  my  dear  Mrs. 
Tripp  assured  me,  going  the  rounds  of  her  cliques,  expressing 
her  doubts  and  anxieties  whether  it  would  do  to  accept  the  in 
vitation  to  my  party;  and  has  thus  canvassed  the  upper  circles 
pretty  extensively,  and  excited  the  several  VIRTUOUS  INDIGNATION 
SOCIETIES  no  little,  by  her  earnest  questionings  with  those  dis 
posed  to  accept,  and  the  earnest  expression  of  her  fears  to  those 
who  had  accepted ;  so  that  there  was,  for  a  while,  much  dubiety 
with  them,  whether  nine  out  of  every  ten  invited,  would  accept 
or  decline  ;  but  finding  the  Worths,  and  the  Schuylers,  and 
other  independent  members,  were  not  to  be  intimidated,  and  that 
the  current  was  setting  in  my  favor,  she  relinquished  the  effort, 
and  making  a  virtue  of  necessity,  conferred  upon  me  the  distin 
guished  honor  of  her  own  acceptance,  securing  for  me,  at  the 
same  time,  the  light  of  the  countenance  of  the  Rev.  Dr.  Verdant 
Green,  whom  the  wicked  world  calls  her  shadow." 

"VIRTUOUS  INDIGNATION  SOCIETIES!  I  am  acquainted  with 
very  many  societies,  but  I  have  never  before  heard  of  these." 

"  Is  it  possible  !  I  assure  you  these  societies  are  very  nume 
rous  among  us,"  replied  Mrs.  Smith,  "  and  exist,  not  only  in  our 
cities,  but  in  all  our  towns  and  villages.  They  consist*  of  those 
alarmingly  proper  persons  who  deem  themselves  the  conservators 
of  public  morals,  and  guardians  of  the  public  peace.  They  meet 
twice  a  week,  or  oftener,  and  two  are  deemed  a  quorum  for  the 
transaction  of  the  business  of  the  society :  their  meetings  are  held 
usually  at  each  other's  houses,  but  may  be  held  at  the  opera- 
house,  or  the  church,  or  indeed  wherever  and  whenever  the 
opportunity  shall  present  itself.  They  do  not  always  take  this 
distinctive  appellation,  but  sometimes  are  known  as  '  The  Select 
Sewing  Circle,1  or  '•Our  Set?  or  some  such  cognomen;  but 
by  whatever  title  they  are  known,  they  become  the  most  for 
midable  of  all  inquisitors,  each  of  whom,  like  the  celebrated 
Council  of  Ten,  have  their  Lion's-Mouth  always  open  to  receive 
all  manner  of  missives  and  rumors,  to  the  injury  of  their  own 
peculiar  and  dear  five  hundred  friends." 

"May  I  ask  how  they  carry  their  mandates  into  effect?" 
inquired  the  Gentleman  in  Black. 

"  Oh  !  unhappily,  this  is  no  difficult  task,  inasmuch  as  they 
are  banded  together  to  carry  into  effect  their  dreaded  determi 
nations.  Of  the  most  active  and  efficient  of  these  in  our  city, 
none  can  exceed  my  own  special  and  dear  friend  Mrs.  Tripp, 
whose  sagacity  and  satire  can  never  be  over-tasked  in  this  labor 
of  love,  and  whose  zeal  sometimes,  finding  itself  unsupplied  with 
the  necessary  victims  to  be  broken  on  the  wheel  of  the  Virtuous 


VIRTUOUS  INDIGNATION  SOCIETIES.  79 

Indignation  Society,  has  often,  with  unsurpassed  skill,  managed 
to  use  up  the  several  members  constituting  the  venerable  Council 
of  Ten  themselves,  of  whom  Mrs.  Van  Dam  has  assumed  the 
Dogess-ship  ;  placing  them,  like  another  Phalaris,*  in  the  Brazen 
Bull  they  have  created  for  others,  and  blowing  up  the  flames  with 
her  own  mouth  ;  so  that  she  has  become  quite  a  formidable  person 
age,  and  has  fairly  succeeded,  from  their  very  dread  of  her,  in 
obtaining  her  position  in  the  first  circles  of  Babylon  the  Less,  and 
which  few  dare  question  ;  and  it  is  only  once  in  a  while  that  the 
Van  Tromps  and  Van  Dams  venture  to  leave  her  and  her  fair 
daughters  at  home,  as  in  the  instance  of  Katrine  Van  Tromp's 
fancy  dress-ball. 

"  Now,  the  labors  of  the  several  Virtuous  Indignation  Societies 
were  especially  directed  to  prevent  Col.  Worth  and  his  lady  and 
lovely  daughter  from  accepting  my  invitations ;  and  their  prompt 
and  polite  acceptance  was  of  the  first  importance  to  me  ;  and 
their  presence  to-night  did  me  infinite  service." 

"  May  I  ask  if  the  young  lady  whose  graceful  contour  and 
beautiful  bust  made  her  '  the  observed  of  all  observers,'  and  to 
whom  De  Lisle  seemed  so  willing  to  attach  himself,  is  the  heiress 
of  the  Worths  of  whom  you  speak?" 

"  Yes,  De  Lisle  seemed  to  me  attracted  by  her  beauty.  He  is 
eminently  talented,  and  is  so  sought  for  by  the  Van  Dams  and 
Van  Tromps,  and  all  of  that  set,  that  it  was  quite  a  triumph  for 
me  to  have  secured  him.  What  did  you  think  of  Grace  Worth  ? 
How  did  she  impress  you  ?" 

44 1  assure  you,  my  dear  madam,  I  was  every  way  prepossessed 
in  her  favor,  by  the  modesty,  almost  timidity,  of  her  demeanor ; 
so  entirely  free  from  all  art  and  mannerism  ;  her  face,  too,  has 
that  sweet  aspect  of  simplicity  which  is  the  surest  index  of  purity 
of  heart,  and  which  no  art  can  create ;  and  yet  her  bearing  had  in 
it  an  air  of  reserve  that  would  have  been  hauteur,  were  it  not  for 
the  unaffected  purity  and  sweetness  of  her  countenance." 

"  It  is  true,  she  is  deemed,  I  believe,  somewhat  reserved  ;  but 
to  me  she  has  this  evening  shown  the  most  perfect  and  even 
affectionate  kindness,  and  made  every  effort  to  relieve  me  from 
the  embarrassments  by  which  I  was  surrounded  ;  and  all  this,  I 

*    Perillus,  the   Athenian,  cast  a  brazen  bull  for  Phalaris,  the  tyrant  of 
Sicily,  with   such  cunning  that  the  offenders  put  into  it,  feeling  the  heat  of 
the  fire  under  it,  seemed  not  to  cry  with  a  human  voice,  but  to  roar  like  a 
bull!     When  he  came  to  demand  a  recompense  for  his  pains,  by  order  of  the 
tyrant,  he  was  put  into  it,  to  show  proof  of  his  own  invention. 
"  Peril lus,  roasted  in  the  bull  he  made, 
Gave  the  first  proof  of  his  own  cruel  trade." 

OVID,  SABELL.  EXCEP.,  1.  10,  ch.  4. 


80  PETER  SCHLEMIHL. 

am  sure,  was  in  her  the  natural  expression  of  sympathy — the 
most  precious  and  acceptable.  To  the  Colonel  and  his  excellent 
lady  I  am  under  infinite  obligations  for  their  kind  attentions  to  me 
at  the  moment  when  they  were  most  needed.  Indeed,  I  don't 
believe  I  could  have  preserved  my  self-possession,  but  for  these 
manifestations  of  kindness  and  sympathy." 

"And  do  you  so  soon  forget  those  of  Mr.  De  Lisle?"  said 
the  Gentleman  in  Black,  with  a  smile. 

"  Oh  no  !  and  if  I  could,  I  would  confer  on  him  the  highest 
reward,  and  which  I  am  sure  he  would  deem  such,  by  securing 
for  him  the  preference  Grace  Worth  has  unconsciously  to  herself 
won  from  him." 

"  You  know  them  intimately,  then  ?  I  thought  they  were 
unknown  to  you  before  this  evening,  except  as  members  of  the 
upper  circles  of  this  city." 

"And  so  they  all  were." 

"Indeed!  And  how  do  you  .gain  all  this  insight  into  secrets, 
which  are  usually  kept  so  close,  of  persons  seen  this  evening  for 
the  first  time  ?" 

"Ah!"  replied  Mrs.  Smith,  with  earnestness,  and  a  glance 
which  made  the  Gentleman  in  Black  tremble  with  emotion, 
"  there  are  beams  of  light  which  reveal  the  recesses  of  the  soul, 
and  such  a  glance  I  saw  flashing  in  De  Lisle's  face  from  the 
depths  of  his  heart,  and  of  which  I  am  sure  he  was  himself  as 
unconscious  as  I  know  the  beautiful  girl  must  have  been  upon 
whom  it  was  bestowed." 

"  Pardon  me,  madam,  if  I  inquire  how  you  can  be  so  certain 
of  this,  and  how  it  was  that  you  only  should  happen  to  see  it  ? 
These  very  modest,  lovely  girls  have  wonderful  tact  in  not  seem 
ing  to  see  what,  after  all,  they  have  most  perfectly  observed." 

"  It  was  a  glance,"  replied  Mrs.  Smith,  "  from  Mr.  De  Lisle, 
as  he  stood  behind  Miss  Worth,  whom  he  led  up  toward  me, 
and  was  excited  doubtless  by  his  admiration  of  her  affectionate 
kindness,  as  she  approached  me  with  a  smile  of  sympathy  in  my 
misfortunes  caused  by  the  shower  of  spermaceti  from  those  vile 
candles,  and  of  which  Grace  had  a  full  sprinkling  upon  her 
beautiful  shoulders.  I  told  her  *  there  was  no  one  but  herself 
who  could  receive  such  a  powdering  without  a  contrast  invidious 
to  their  skins.'  A  poor  compliment,  I  confess,  but  which  she 
received  with  the  most  cheerful  air  of  satisfaction,  as  if  she  was 
willing  that  anything  should  be  a  full  compensation  of  her 
share  of  the  general  calamity." 

"  The  reverend  Doctor  Verdant  Green  did  not  bear  his  share 
of  powder  with  the  same  equanimity,"  the  Gentleman  in  Black 
replied,  smiling  significantly. 


VIRTUOUS  INDIGNATION  SOCIETY.  81 

"  So  it  seemed ;  and  I  thought  Mrs.  Van  Dam  was  more 
distressed  at  the  small  stream  down  the  back  of  his  coat,  than  at 
the  cup-full  she  so  justly  received  upon  her  own  rich  dress." 

"  I  was  just  at  his  elbow  when  the  reverend  Doctor  received 
his  effusion,  and  though  it  was  not  unlike  the  holy  oil  poured  on 
the  beard  of  Aaron,  in  running  down  in  an  unbroken  stream  to 
the  hems  of  the  garment,  it  was  far  from  being  as  graciously  as 
it  was  warmly  received.  His  ill-suppressed  vexation,"  continued 
the  Gentleman  in  Black,  "  was  very  amusing.  I  knew  he  must 
be  a  clergyman  of  some  sort,  and  thought  he  might  be  a  Catholic 
priest." 

" Indeed  ?— why  so?" 

"  It  is  not  always  easy  to  give  a  reason  for  our  impressions, 
but  from  the  cut  of  his  coat,  which  is,  you  know,  single-breasted, 
buttoned  high  to  the  neck  ;  the  peculiarity  of  his  white  stock  ; 
the  transparent  ruby  redness  of  his  cheeks,  and  of  the  skin  behind 
his  ears,  and  a  certain  rotundity -which  marks  such  men,  assured 
me  he  was  of  a  class  who  deal  in  dogmas  and  good  dinners. 
And  then  he  evidently  took  me  for  a  gentleman  of  the  cloth,  and 
addressed  me  in  that  conventional  form  and  phrase  which  are 
customary  among  these  men  ;  a  certain  pastoral  and  patronizing 
manner,  which  is  very  taking  with  some  folks." 

"  May  I  ask  if  the  Doctor  is  a  member  of  the  society  you  have 
just  described?"  inquired  the  Gentleman  in  Black. 

"  The  Virtuous  Indignation  Society?  No  ;  this  is  exclusively 
a  Ladies'  Society,  and  certain  gentlemen  only  are  admitted  as 
honorary  members.  There  was  quite  a  contest,  I  am  told,  by 
Mrs.  Tripp,  as  to  the  propriety  of  his  admission ;  and  in  speaking 
of  this  contest,  Mrs.  Tripp  gave  me  a  somewhat  amusing  account 
of  a  transaction  in  which  the  Doctor  was  to  have  acted  a  conspi 
cuous  part,  and  which  was  related  in  her  best  style." 

"  Do  let  me  have  the  pleasure  of  hearing  it !" 

"  It  has  no  immediate  relation  to  his  election ;  but  was  told  me 
by  Mrs.  Tripp,  during  her  first  call,  when,  as  I  have  told  you, 
she  did  me  the  kindness  to  tell  me  of  the  efforts  Mrs.  Van  Dam 
had  made  to  exclude  me  from  the  circles  of  the  *  upper  ten  thou 
sand'  of  Babylon  the  Less." 

"  I  shall  be  exceedingly  gratified  by  a  specimen  of  this  lady's 
talents." 

*'  I  wish  it  were  possible  for  me  to  give  it  to  you  with  all  her  sig 
nificant  looks  and  intonations  of  voice  ;  but  these  are  inimitable." 

*'  I  will  attempt  to  realize  them  ;  so  pray  begin." 

Mrs.  Smith,  smiling,  with  a  lively  tone  and  manner,  commenced 
the  narration  as  requested. 

"  Mrs.  Van  Dam,  so  says  Mrs.  Tripp,  was  sought  and  won 
6 


82  PETER  SCHLEMIHL. 

when  a  young  girl,  by  General  Van  Dam,  the  only  child  of  an 
old  Dutch  merchant,  who  was  most  pugnaciously  attached  to 
the  Reformed  Dutch  Church,  of  which  he  was  an  elder,  and  to 
the  High  Dutch  language,  by  which  he  had  been  initiated  into  its 
doctrines,  so  that  though  living  so  many  years  in  Babylon,  he 
never  attained  any  more  of  our  language  than  enabled  him  to 
transact  the  business  of  his  commercial  house.  And  when  his 
only  son  and  heir  communicated  to  his  father  his  wish  to  marry, 
the  old  merchant  gave  his  consent  only  on  condition  of  the  cere 
mony  being  performed  by  his  pastor  in  Low  Dutch,  with  which 
the  General  was  familiar  from  childhood,  but  of  which  the 
young  lady  was  totally  ignorant.  She,  however,  made  no  objec-j 
tion  ;  the  wealth  of  the  father  was  great  and  she  was  poor,  and  a 
husband  was  not  to  be  declined  on  such  conditions,  which,  though 
they  seem  strange  enough,  were  at  that  time  to  her  a  matter  of 
perfect  indifference.  So  the  ceremony  took  place  in  accordance 
with  the  father's  wishes. 

"During  his  lifetime,  they  resided  in  the  lower  part  of  the  city, 
but  as  soon  after  as  was  convenient  they  removed  to  their  present 
beautiful  residence  up  town  ;  and  finding  the  aristocracy  were 
mostly  associated  with  the  Church,  she  at  length  succeeded  in 
persuading  her  husband  that  it  was  too  far  to  attend  the  old  Dutch 
Church,  and  he  reluctantly  consented  that  she  should  come  under 
the  pastoral  care  and  guidance  of  the  Rev.  Dr.  Verdant  Green, 
Rector  of  one  of  the  most  numerously  attended  churches  of  the 
city.  Here  she  became  indoctrinated  into  all  the  claims  of  The 
Church,'  and  the  peculiar  dignity  and  sanctity  of  its  rites.  For 
the  first  time  in  her  life  she  felt  an  inquietude  as  to  the  validity  of 
her  marriage,  though  the  presence  of  four  sons  and  five  daughters, 
all  in  due  course  of  time,  one  would  have  supposed  would  have 
left  her  in  no  doubt  that  the  relations  of  married  life  had  been 
fairly  and  fully  established  :  still  her  conscience  became  very 
tender  under  the  dreadful  consciousness  that  she  had  never  been 
married  in  accordance  with  the  claims  of  '  The  Church  :'  and 
this  state  of  mind  was  greatly  increased  by  so  often  hearing  from 
certain  very  devout  ladies,  who  were  ignorant  of  her  early  life, 
that  in  their  opinion  all  persons,  in  the  condition  in  which  she  found 
herself,  were  living  in  a  dreadful  state  of  open  sin.  Not  that 
the  Doctor  taught  this  so  palpably,  though  she  felt  that  this  was  a 
fair  and  necessary  deduction  of  the  doctrines  she  frequently  heard 
from  him.  What  could  she  do?  She  feared  to  lose  the  good 
opinion  of  these  pious  ladies,  and  almost  as  a  necessary  result, 
she  became  more  and  more  devout,  hoping  to  compensate  for  her 
sin  by  the  increased  strictness  of  her  conformity  to '  The  Church,' 
so  that  she  became  quite  a  saint,  and  well  fitted  for  the  Dogess- 


MRS.  VAN  DAM'S  ORATORY.  83 

ship  of  the  Virtuous  Indignation  Society,  which  by  common 
consent  was  assigned  to  her. 

"  In  her  dressing-room,  which  opened  into  her  chamber,  and 
which  she  styled  her  oratory,  there  stood  a  large  mahogany  ward 
robe,  so  it  seemed  to  the  General,  who  was  never  permitted  to 
more  than  look  in  at  the  door,  as  it  was  casually  opened ;  and 
so  jealous  had  the  lady  become  of  even  these  glimpses,  that 
unconsciously  to  himself  there  arose  in  the  mind  of  the  General 
a  wish  to  see  more  of  this  sanctum  of  his  wife.  Not  that  he  had 
any  jealousy  in  all  this,  for  the  room  only  opened  into  the 
chamber;  but  we  naturally  wish  to  pry  into  that  from  which  we 
are  sedulously  shut  out." 

"  I  did  not  know,"  said  the  Gentleman  in  Black,  "  that  this 
extended  to  gentlemen." 

"  I  believe  it  is  an  infirmity  of  our  natures,  not  restricted  to  our 
sex,"  replied  Mrs.  Smith,  and  with  great  vivacity  of  manner  she 
continued  : 

"  It  chanced  one  day  that  an  alarm  of  fire  was  given  in  the 
house,  just  at  the  hour  observed  by  Mrs.  Van  Dam  for  her  devotions. 
Of  course  it  reached  the  lady,  who  flew  down  stairs,  leaving  her 
oratory  and  chamber  doors  open.  The  General  was  the  first  to 
return  to  the  chamber,  and  seeing  the  oratory  door  open,  walked 
in:  what  was  his  surprise  to  find  the  wardrobe  with  its  doors 
wide  open,  presenting  to  him,  not  a  string  of  dresses,  but  a  sort 
of  altar-piece  !  On  a  marble  bracket  was  a  beautiful  crucifix  with 
an  ivory  Saviour;  behind  this,  a  picture  of  the  Madonna,  with  her 
burning  and  bleeding  heart,  and  its  piercing  thorns,  and  on  the 
sides  were  pictures  of  some  seraphic  saints  with  their  sculls  and 
cross-bones  ;  and  from  a  shelf  on  which  lay  her  prayer-book- 
there  was  a  beautiful  curtain  hanging,  on  which  was  embroidered, 
in  gold,  a  small  fish.  The  General  gazed  on  all  this  in  astonish 
ment. 

"  Can  you  tell  me,  my  dear  sir,  what  this  fish  has  to  do  with 
an  oratory?  I  asked  Mrs.  Tripp  to  explain  it,  and  she  was  at 
fault,  though  she  said, '  I  might  depend  upon  it  it  was  really  so,  and 
she  thought  it  might  be  some  sort  of  a  symbol,  and  for  the  same 
purpose  as  the  great  cod-fish  in  the  Hall  of  the  Representatives 
of  her  native  state;*  but  when  I  asked,  *  what  this  purpose  was, 
and  whether  the  people  of  her  state  really  worshipped  a  cod-fish,' 
she  confessed  *  she  could  not  tell,  only  she  had  seen  the  one  with 
her  own  eyes,  and  had  every  reason  to  believe  it  was  really  so, 
in  Mrs.  Van  Dam's  oratory.'  Now  before  I  go  on,  will  you  do 

*  A  codfish,  as  large  as  life,  hangs  from  the  ceiling  of  the  Hall  of  the  House 
of  Representatives  of  Massachusetts. 


84  PETER  SCHLEMIHL. 

me  the  favor  to  tell  me  if  it  be  indeed  a  symbol,  and  if  so,  of  what  ? 
for  I  confess  this  is  the  only  thing  in  Mrs.  Tripp's  story  which 
struck  me  as  improbable." 

"  I  believe  it  is  derived  from  the  fact,  that  in  the  Greek  name 
for  fish  (Ichthus)  the  words  I.  H.  S.  occur,  and  the  fish  indicates 
the  same  idea  as  the  I.  H.  S.,  which  is  the  more  common  symbol 
of  JESUS  HOMINIS  SALVATOR." 

"  I'm  very  much  obliged  to  you ;  and  yet  what  a  strange 
symbol  a  fish  is,  to  indicate  that  JESUS  CHRIST  is  the  Saviour  of 
men  !" 

"  Certainly  it  is ;  but  won't  you  proceed  ?  I  am  quite  interested 
to  hear  how  all  this  ended." 

"  The  pious  lady,"  continued  Mrs.  Smith,  smiling  very  kindly, 
"  having  finished  her  scolding  of  the  servants,  whose  carelessness 
in  setting  on  fire  a  horse-full  of  clothing  had  caused  the  alarm, 
bethought  herself  of  her  prayers,  and  that  her  oratory  door  was 
open  ;  so  she  flew  up  stairs  in  breathless  haste,  and  there  found 
the  General  in  a  state  of  amazement  gazing  into  her  sanctum 
sanctorum.  His  first  question  was  sternly  to  inquire,  'Have 
you,  madam,  become  a  Roman  Catholic?'  '  Oh,  dear  husband, 
no — no,  indeed  !'  '  What  do  all  these  things  mean,  then  ?' 
1  Mean,  dearest  ?  they  are  only  helps  to  my  devotions.  I 
assure  you  I'm  no  Romanist;  see,  here  is  the  only  prayer-book 
I  ever  use,  and  I  desire  no  other." 

"  The  General  was  satisfied  only  when  he  had  read  on  the  title- 
page  in  large  type,  *  The  Book  of  Common  Prayer,  according  to 
the  use  of  the  Protestant  Episcopal  Church  in  the  United  States.' 
It  was  fortunate  that  it  lay  open  on  the  reading-shelf;  and  the 
well-thumbed  leaves  and  the  worn  velvet  cushion  on  which  she 
knelt  were  witnesses  for  her  truth;  so  that,  from  a  feeling  of 
painful  surprise,  the  General's  mind  now  looked  upon  all  this 
secrecy  and  seclusion  as  something  very  amusing;  and  his  merry 
face  encouraged  his  lady  to  speak  the  secret  of  her  soul,  and  to 
beg  him  to  save  her  from  the  condemnation  of  her  own  conscience, 
and  to  consent  to  have  the  marriage  rite  duly  performed  by  the 
Rev.  Dr.  Verdant  Green.  The  General  mused  awhile,  with 
some  very  funny  thoughts  in  his  head,  and  then  taking  his  wife 
by  the  shoulders,  he  turned  her  round  and  round,  all  the  while 
scanning  her  with  a  very  smiling  aspect:  *  Really,'  said  he,  '  I 
am  exceedingly  surprised  at  your  proposal:  but  let  us  see  once 
more  how  you  look.  Yes,  you  are  still  a  fine-looking  lady  ; 
please  open  your  mouth  ;  yes,  your  teeth  are  sound  ;  your  skin 
is  still  fair,  and  your  eyes  bright ;  and  I  doubt,'  said  he,  musing 
a  moment,  *  if  I  could  do  better.  But,  my  dear,  how  few  men 
there  are  in  Babylon  who  would  marry  their  wives  after  having 


THE  PROPOSED  RE-UNION  OF  MRS.  VAN  DAM.  85 

had  them  for  twenty  years  !     But  after  all,  I  think  I  will ;  I  don't 
believe  I  could  better  myself.' 

"  So  saying,  he  kissed   Mrs.   Van   Dam  very  earnestly  and 

tenderly.     The  lady  was  delighted" 

"  At  being  so  warmly  caressed  ?"  inquired  the  Gentleman  in 
Black,  smiling. 

"If  you  interrupt  me,"  said  Mrs.  Smith,  "I  won't  proceed." 
"I  pray  you  to  pardon  me.  I  won't  offend  again." 
"  On  this  condition  only  will  I  end  this  story.  The  General 
promised  to  marry  her  again,  and  kissing  her,  took  his  leave 
of  her.  Mrs.  Van  Dam  went  immediately  round  to  her  pious 
friends,  and  with  tears  of  joy,  told  them  of  her  happiness,  and 
invited  them  to  corne  that  very  evening  to  her  house  to  witness 
the  solemn  service.  These  visits,  and  giving  the  necessary  orders 
for  suitable  entertainment,  occupied  her  fully  during  the  day. 
About  eight  o'clock  in  the  evening,  the  General  and  his  sons 
returned  home,  and  found  in  the  saloons  quite  a  party  of  his 
wife's  most  select  friends.  They  all  seemed  more  than  usually 
glad  to  see  the  General ;  and  the  ladies  especially  gave  him  more 
than  their  accustomed  warmth  of  pressure,  while  their  eyes 
beamed  upon  him  with  looks  of  tenderness  and  love.  The 
General  noticed  this,  and  also  that  when  it  was  over,  the  party 
seemed  to  relax  into  a  sobriety  of  manner  and  whispering  in  their 
conversation,  which  in  a  short  time  made  him  feel  as  if  this  was 
more  like  a  Quaker  meeting  than  a  fashionable  party.  Nor  was 
this  feeling  lessened  when  he  saw  the  velvet-covered  and  golden- 
clasped  prayer-book  of  his  wife  lying  on  a  small  table,  on  which 
was  a  magnificent  lamp,  whose  light  made  it  a  most  conspicuous 
object  of  observation.  There  was  evidently  the  hush  of  expec 
tation  ;  but  where  were  his  wife  and  daughters?  They  seemed 
all  to  have  disappeared.  Finding  himself  somewhat  mystified, 
he  whispered  to  a  sweet,  witching  widow,  with  whom  he  loved 
to  jest,  as  married  men  do — though  I  think  it's  very  wrong,"  said 
Mrs.  Smith,  trying  to  look  severe;  "so  giving  her  a  gentle 
pressure  on  her  shoulder,  he  asked,  *  What  has  become  of  my 
wife  ?'  The  young  widow  in  an  instant  rose,  and  led  him  into 
the  entry,  and  said,  with  the  most  speaking  eyes,  '  Do  you  want 
to  see  her  very  much  ?  Oh  !  she's  so  lovely  to-night!  Ah  !  you 
are  a  happy  man;  such  a  wife  as  you  will  get!  If  I  could  make 
an  exchange  now,  how  tempted  I  should  be!*  '  My  dear  lady,' 
said  the  General,  4  pray  be  serious  for  this  once,  and  tell  me 
where  are  my  lady-folks?'  'Oh,  you  are  so  impatient!'  was 
the  widow's  reply ;  '  I'm  sure  you  are  not  wont  to  be  so ;  but  I 
forgive  you  for  this  once.  Dr.  Verdant  Green  has  not  yet  come ; 
and  you  know  there's  no  time  lost.'  What  did  the  widow 


86  PETER  SCHLEMIHL. 

mean? — who  could  tell?  She  would  not,  but  with  a  gay  laugh, 
led  him  up  the  stairs,  into  his  own  bed-chamber,  and  opening  the 
door,  exclaimed,  *  Here,  dear  Mrs.  Van  Dam,  is  the  most  im 
patient  of  all  grooms  I've  seen  for  these  seven  years  !" 

"The  room  was  dazzling  with  light;  Mrs.  Van  Dam,  most 
magnificently  dressed  in  white  satin  and  lace;  her  diamonds  shone 
from  a  coronet  which  encircled  her  brow,  and  from  the  back  of 
her  hair,  which  is,  you  know,  still  very  rich  and  luxuriant,  there 
depended  a  lace  veil  of  great  beauty.  Altogether,  she  must  have 
been  worth  seeing;  and  as  if  such  a  vision  was  not  in  itself  suffi 
ciently  brilliant,  there  stood  her  daughters,  all  radiant  in  Swiss 
muslin  dresses,  with  Camilla  japonicas  in  their  hair,  and  the 
simplicity  of  their  adornments  beautifully  contrasted  and  height 
ened  the  effect  of  their  dear  mamma's. 

"  The  effect  upon  the  General  was  certainly  very  astounding. 
His  wife  came  forward  and  kissed  him  most  tenderly  :  '  Dear 
General,'  she  said,  *  what  has  kept  you  so  long  ?  I  feared  you 
would  be  late.'  To  all  which  the  General  replied,  in  a  voice 
which  was  not  half  so  sweet  as  the  lady's,  though  it  was  dis 
tinctly  heard  by  several  who  sat  near  the  doors  of  the  saloons 
below  stairs:  '  Donder  and  blixum!  (his  favorite  phrase,)  what 
does  all  this  mean  ?'  4  Heavens  !'  exclaimed  his  wife,  *  do  you 
ask  me  what  all  this  means  !  Did  you  not  promise  to  marry  me 
this  very  morning  ?'  *  Yes,  indeed ;  I  remember  I  made  some 
such  rash  promise;  but  did  you  invite  these  people  here  to  wit 
ness  the  ceremony  ?'  '  Certainly,  I  did  ;  and  I  am  gratified  to 
say,  they  are  delighted  and  edified  by  your  conduct.'  '  And  who 
is  to  be  the  priest  ?'  '  Who  !  Dr.  Verdant  Green :  who  else 
should  I  think  of  having?'  *  And  has  Dr.  Verdant  Green  coun 
selled  this  reunion  ?'  '  No,'  said  Mrs.  Van  Dam  ;  '  my  friends 
thought  he  had  better  be  as  surprised  as  we  are  sure  he  will  be 
delighted.' 

44  The  General  having  surveyed  all  the  embarrassments  with 
which  his  wife  had  so  sedulously  and  ingeniously  surrounded 
him,  now  began  to  look  around  with  an  air  not  so  savage  as  he 
had  worn,  and  seeing  his  daughters  all  so  beautifully  dressed,  he 
asked  them,  *  What  part  they  were  to  play  in  the  tragedy  to  be 
performed  ?'  They  replied,  very  sweetly  and  innocently,  '  That 
they  were  to  be  mother's  bride*  s-maids  !'  This  was  too  much 
for  the  General,  who  now  relieved  himself  with  a  burst  of  laugh 
ter,  long  and  loud,  which  fairly  shook  the  house.  His  wife,  ter 
rified  beyond  measure,  asked  him,  in  a  tone  of  agony,  '  Did  you 
not  this  very  morning  promise  to  marry  me?'  'My  dear  wife,' 
he  replied,  4 1  did ;  though  I  am  still  surprised  at  your  venturing 
upon  such  a  request;  but  I  did  not  think  you  would  wish  me  to  do 


OF  THE  MORIAH  CHURCH.  87 

so  in  the  presence  of  others.'  '  But  why  not?'  asked  Mrs.  Van 
Dam,  in  the  utmost  terror,  foreboding,  after  all,  a  refusal  of  her 
heart's  desire.  '  Why  not  ?  because,'  replied  the  General,  in  a  tone 
of  asperity,  notwithstanding  all  his  previous  mirth,  *  if  you  are 
willing  to  pass  an  Act  of  Bastardy  upon  my  children,  I  am  not  /' 
The  poor  lady  all  but  swooned.  She  saw  in  an  instant  that  this 
was  a  new  view  of  matters,  which  had  never  occurred  to  her. 
The  General  returned  to  the  saloons,  and  pleaded  an  engagement 
to  the  party,  and  left  the  house.  The  young  widow  told  them 
the  scene  above  stairs,  with  the  utmost  particularity.  Poor  Mrs. 
Van  Dam  had  not,  strength  to  return  to  her  friends,  but  awaited 
the  coming  of  the  Rev.  Dr.  Verdant  Green,  to  whom  she  told 
her  griefs.  The  party,  in  the  mean  time,  thought  it  best  to  re 
tire,  asking  no  questions  as  to  the  cause  of  the  failure  of  the 
marriage  ceremony,  from  which  they  had  hoped  so  much  by  way 
of  an  example  to  others  ;  and  as  most  of  these  ladies  were  mem 
bers  of  the  Virtuous  Indignation  Society,  all  these  particulars 
were  naturally  told  to  Mrs.  Tripp,  my  very  agreeable  informant, 
who  closed  her  narration  by  saying,  with  her  significant  look  and 
smile,  *  The  Doctor  found  some  soothing  emollient  for  her  tender 
conscience,  and  so  has  reconciled  her  to  continue  as  the  General's 
wife.'  " 

"  And  is  Mrs.  Tripp  a  member  of  the  church  ?"  inquired  the 
Gentleman  in  Black. 

"  Not  a  member  of  '  the  church,'  but  yet  a  most  active  and 
zealous  member  of  the  Moriah  Church,  to  which  she  is  most  ex 
clusively  devoted." 

"  And  what  church  is  this  ?" 

"  And  are  you  so  little  acquainted  with  our  city  as  not  to  know  ? 
I  thought  you  were  well  acquainted  in  our  city." 

"  The  truth  is,  my  dear  madam,  I  have  but  just  returned,  after 
an  absence  of  some  six  years,  and  your  churches  spring  up  in 
such  variety  of  sects,  and  so  like  mushrooms,  that  of  the  pecu 
liarity  of  the  church  you  speak  of,  I  am  ignorant.  What  is  the 
creed  of  this  church  ?" 

'*  Oh,  that  is  indeed  the  peculiarity  of  the  Moriah  Church,  that 
they  have  no  creed." 

"  No  creed !" 

"  No  !  their  religion  is  not  one  of  faith,  but  of  negations  ;  and 
Mrs.  Tripp  can  better  tell  you  what  she  does  not  believe,  than 
what  she  does.  Religion,  by  these  people,  is  stripped  of  all  its 
mysteries.  It  is  submitted  to  an  exhausting  process,  by  which  it 
is  reduced  to  its  lowest  term.  They  affirm  that  the  writers  of 
the  New  Testament  were  not,  properly  speaking,  inspired,  nor 


88  PETER  SCHLEMIHL. 

infallible  guides  in  divine  matters ;  that  Jesus  Christ  did  not  die 
for  our  sins,  nor  is  the  proper  object  of  worship,  nor  even  im 
peccable  ;  that  there  is  not  any  provision  made  in  the  sanctifica- 
tion  of  the  Spirit  for  the  aid  of  spiritual  maladies  ;  that  there  is 
no  intercessor  at  the  right  hand  of  God ;  that  Christ  is  not  pre 
sent  with  his  saints,  nor  his  saints,  when  they  quit  the  body, 
present  with  the  Lord ;  that  man  is  not  composed  of  a  material 
and  an  immaterial  principle,  but  consists  of  merely  organized 
matter,  which  is  totally  dissolved  at  death."* 

"  And  do  they  call  themselves  Christians?" 

"  To  be  sure  they  do  !  and  I  am  told  Mrs.  Tripp's  malice 
against  the  venerable  Council  of  Ten  is  more  provoked  by  their 
denial  that  she  is  a  Christian,  than  by  any  slights  that  they  have 
put  upon  her.  Indeed,  she  has  ever  manifested  the  greatest 
anxiety  to  win  the  suffrages  of  orthodox  Christians  on  this  very 
point ;  and  in  this  way  she  shows  most  clearly  the  misgivings  of 
her  own  soul  in  the  soundness  and  safety  of  her  religious  opin 
ions." 

"  Is  it  not  strange  ?  What  need  Mrs.  Tripp  care  for  the  opinions 
of  others  ?" 

"  Not  to  me  strange.  There  are  not  many  who  are  certain  that 
they  hold  just  the  right  form  of  faith ;  and  of  those  who  are  cer 
tain  of  their  faith,  there  are  but  few  who  have  not  moments  of 
fear  as  to  their  practice.  Indeed,  what  is  more  common  than  to 
hear,  every  Sunday  morning,  people  whose  conduct  during  the 
week  has  been  distinguished  by  some  'fair  business  transaction,' 
making  the  most  humble  confession  of  being  i  miserable  offend 
ers  ;'  and  yet  I  never  heard  or  read  of  but  one  Zaccheus  !" 

"  Zaccheus  is  indeed  an  original !  but,  my  dear  madam,  you  cer 
tainly  would  not  wish  every  one  to  follow  his  example  ?" 

"  Certainly,  I  would  !" 

"  And  make  restitution  of  all  the  wrongs  they  had  done  the 
week  before  ?" 

"Yes;  and  why  not?" 

"  For  the  most  obvious  reason  in  the  world.  It  would  set  every 
body  by  the  ears,  and  derange  the  whole  machinery  of  society." 

"  I  don't  see  how  this  could  be." 

"  Let  me  explain.  Now  we  will  suppose  that  on  some  bright 
star-lit  night,  a  flaming  sword  were  to  be  seen  gleaming  in  the 
skies  over  the  city  of  Babylon  the  Less;  and  while  the  fearful 
portent  was  filling  all  hearts  with  dread,  some  Hydrarchos-Silli- 
manii,  or  some  such  huge  monster  of  the  deep,  should  be  seen 
coming  up  the  bay,  and  were  to  vomit  upon  the  Battery  another 

*  Robert  Hall. 


EVIL  EXAMPLE  OF  ZACCHEUS.  89 

Jonah,  who  should  cry,  *  Wo  !  wo  !  to  the  inhabitants  of  Baby 
lon  !  Yet  forty  days,  and  Babylon  shall  be  overthrown  !' — and 
were  to  call  upon  the  people  to  make  restitution  of  all  the  frauds 
and  falsehoods,  not  of  their  whole  lives,  but  of  the  forty  days 
previous  ?  Do  you  not  see  the  evils  which  would  result  ?" 

"  No,  I  do  not." 

"  Then,  madam,  have  a  little  patience  with  me,  and  I  will  show 
you  a  few  examples,  which  would  doubtless  be  but  a  specimen  of 
all  the  others.  It  would  be  impossible  to  describe  the  scenes 
which  any  real  effort  made  by  the  people  of  Babylon  to  make 
restitution,  would  give  rise  to.  The  hopelessness  of  the  quack 
to  restore  to  his  numerous  patrons  the  money  paid  for  the  '  Pills 
of  Life,'  '  Panaceas,'  and  *  Catholicons,'  all  which,  he  well  knew, 
possessed  in  themselves  none  of  the  virtues  ascribed  to  them, 
would  be  but  a  type  of  thousands  of  the  vendors  of  this  city.  But 
let  us  suppose  a  scene  in  Change  Alley. 

"  The  last  week  of  the  forty  days  has  now  come.  In  the  mean 
time,  it  may  be  supposed,  many  would  rely  on  the  '  Reports  of 
the  Learned  Societies,'  (and  which  would  doubtless  be  just  such 
as  would  best  quiet  the  anxieties  of  the  people,  and  best  please 
those  who  had  no  wish  to  disgorge  their  gains,)  while  the  timor 
ous  had  long  been  at  work  squaring  up  their  accounts.  Families 
long  separated  had  become  reconciled ;  unions  which  had  been 
postponed  too  long,  would  be  solemnized,  and  the  churches  would 
be  well  filled  about  those  days;  but  in  the  higher  ranks,  where 
these  restitutions  would  become  notorieties,  and  whose  members 
would  be  ashamed  to  follow  the  example  of  the  vulgar,  there 
would  be  no  one  to  break  ground  in  this  strange  work ;  and  of 
all  the  places,  we  may  well  believe,  which  would  show  signs  of 
restitution,  Change  Alley  would  be  the  last.  But  doubtless  there 
would  be  strange  perplexities  in  '  the  street?  as  they  saw  this 
strange  hairy  Prophet,  and  heard  him  exclaim  in  their  ears, 
'Wo!  wo!'  and  denounce  them  as  they  were  once  before  de 
nounced,  when  turned  out  of  the  Temple. 

44  And  the  last  week  has  come.  The  Honorable  Board  meets  ; 
the  fancies  are  flat ;  state  stocks  sinking  below  the  sales  of  the 
day  before ;  and  city  stocks  dead  on  the  hands  of  holders.  No 
business  is  done,  and  there  they  sit  in  silence.  Those  who, 
twenty  days  before,  were  loudest  in  saying  '  The  old  prophet  was 
a  humbug !' — '  the  sword  in  the  sky  is  only  the  tail  of  a  comet !' 
would  now  be  heard  to  whisper  their  hopes  that  it  would  be  so. 
At  length  the  words  of  Satan  would  be  found  to  be  true :  '  All 
that  a  man  hath  will  he  give  for  his  life  ;'  and  a  Jacob  or  a  Joseph 
would  rise  and  say,  4I  am  ready  to  make  restitution  of  all  my 
moneyed  transactions,  within  the  last  forty  days.'  We  may  sup- 


90  PETER  SCHLEMIHL. 

pose  the  dismay  which  would  follow,  and  the  sad,  silent,  and 
slow  movements  of  the  several  members  as  they  rose  to  make  a 
like  avowal ;  but  then  how  to  ascertain  the  true  amounts  to  be 
exchanged  or  paid  over !  The  difficulties  in  the  way  of  making 
an  equation  and  settlement  of  their  several  cornerings  and  ham 
merings  of  stock  would  be  found  insurmountable,  and  on  the 
last  of  the  forty  days  they  would  sit  like  poor  culprits  under  the 
gallows,  awaiting  the  fatal  drop  which  was  to  land  them  in  a 
future  state. 

"  I  will  give  you  a  scene  which  might  very  likely  take  place 
among  these  very  friends  of  yours.  Mrs.  Tripp,  finding  the 
Board  of  Brokers  giving  way  to  the  panic,  will  have  doubtless 
recalled  to  her  mind  some  shrewd  and  palpable  hit  which  she  has 
placed  upon  the  tender  reputation  of  Mrs.  Van  Tromp  and  her 
daughters.  She  sets  out  upon  the  painful  pilgrimage  of  restitu 
tion  ;  and  first  she  goes  to  Mrs.  Van  Tromp's.  She  need  not 
feign  any  grief;  that,  in  such  a  case,  would  be  natural  enough, 
and  it  may  be  Mrs.  Van  Tromp  had  the  same  design  of  acknow 
ledging  her  sins  against  Mrs.  Tripp.  They  meet,  and  in  tears 
embrace  each  other,  each  anxious  to  save  her  life  by  a  full  con 
fession. 

"  '  My  dear  Mrs.  Van  Tromp,  I  am  pained  to  confess  I  have 
sinned  against  you,  by  speaking  of  you  in  a  way  which  I  now 
see  to  be  very  wrong  indeed.'  '  Dear  Mrs.  Tripp,  don't  say  this 
to  me ;  it  is  I  who  must  come  to  you  with  such  sad  disclosures.' 

*  But  I  must  be  permitted  to  tell  you.    I  have  said,  indeed  I  have, 
many  things  I  wish  I  had  not ;  and  so,  to  begin,  I  have  said  that 
you  wore  false  hair.'     '  And  I  do,  and  so  do  you  ;  go  on  ;'  '  and 
false  teeth  ;'  '  that's  false.'    4  And  hearing  of  Jack  Musard's  atten 
tions  to  Katrine,  I  hinted  to  him  that  he  had  better  wait  a  while 
and  her  form  would  be  improved.'     *  You  did,  indeed  !'     '  Yes, 
indeed  I  did,  and  I  come  to  make  restitution  to  you  first  of  all.' 

*  Well,  madam,  I  too  have  a  small  matter  of  the  sort  to  settle  with 
you,  and  I  too  must  confess  I  have  not  been  much  behind  with 
you,  though  I  never  could  have  believed  it  possible  that  even 
your  malice  could  have  reached  such  a  height  as  this.'     '  Pray 
what  have   you  done  to  me  ?'     '  It  is,  indeed,  but  a  trifle  in  the 
comparison — a   mere  nothing  ;  but  I  too  must  make  you  restitu 
tion,  and  here  it  is.     You  know  Mr.  Winterbottom  has  had  some 
little  liking  for  your  divine  Adela,  which  you  have  fostered  as  best 
you  could,  and  with  some  hopes  of  success.     Now,  to  save  him 
from  such  a  fate  as  a  union  with  your  daughter,  I  have  told  him 
in  all  the  confidence  of  friendship,  within  the  last  forty  days,  that 
the  recent  attack  of  erysipelas  which  you  know  kept  her  to  her 
room  for  a  fortnight,  was  nothing  more  nor  less  than  scrofula.' 


DANGERS  OF  RESTITUTION.  91 

"  Now,  dear  Mrs.  Smith,  what  would  be  the  result  of  such  a 
course  of  restitution  ?  Why  these  ladies  would  in  all  probability, 
after  mutual  recriminations,  fly  at  each  other's  faces,  despoil  each 
other  of  their  caps  and  hair,  true  or  false,  and  as  in  the  night 
when  the  first-born  of  Egypt  were  slain,  '  there  was  a  great  cry 
in  Egypt,  for  there  was  not  a  house  where  there  was  not  one 
dead,'  so  it  would  be  told,  'there  was  not  a  house  in  Babylon, 
where  there  was  not  one  or  more  such  conflicts,  with  all  their 
attendant  cries  and  shrieks.'  No,  dear  Mrs.  Smith,  don't  think 
restitution  as  among  the  things  desirable,  if  it  were  possible." 

"  You  have  indeed  shown  it  a  work  of  greater  difficulty  and 
hazard  than  I  had  conceived  it  could  be.  Alas!  I  have  been 
born  into  this  world  some  centuries  too  soon.  I  do  hope  the  time 
will  yet  come  when  all  the  dreams  of  poets  and  prophets  will  be 
realized,  and  when  sin  and  slavery  will  be  remembered  no  more 
forever." 

"  And  do  you  deem  sin  and  slavery  to  be  so  closely  linked  to 
gether  ?" 

"  Yes,  to  me  they  seem  inseparable  ;  and  I  never  read  of  the 
acknowledgments  made  by  slaveholders  of  its  '  being  a  social, 
political  and  moral  evil,'*  without  a  feeling  that  by  such  confes 
sions  they  are  'laying  a  flattering  unction  to  their  souls,'  and  like 
so  many  of  our  Christians  in  Babylon,  deem  themselves  absolved 
from  their  sins,  because  they  have  made  a  penitent  and  full  con 
fession  of  their  magnitude." 

"  Are  you  not  too  severe  upon  these  holders  of  slaves  ?  They 
were  born  to  their  inheritance,  and  it  is  a  matter  of  self-preservi- 
tion  to  retain  their  relations  to  them  intact.  I  have  thought 
they  made  some  mistake  in  their  methods  and  management,  and 
feel  assured  I  could  make  them  many  valuable  suggestions,  arising 
from  my  own  experience." 

"  Is  it  possible  that  I  have  been  talking  to  a  slave-holder,  and 
all  this  while  took  you  for  a  clergyman  of  some  sort  ?"  exclaimed 
Mrs.  Smith,  in  a  tone  of  painful  astonishment. 

The  Gentleman  in  Black  seemed  somewhat  staggered  at  the 
earnestness  of  the  lady's  exclamation,  but  soon  recovered  his  self- 
possession,  and  with  an  air  of  extreme  frankness,  and  a  smile 
which  greatly  prepossessed  Mrs.  Smith  in  favor  of  any  apology 
he  had  to  make  for  himself,  he  commenced: 

"I  assure  you,  my  dear  madam,  such  is  the  course  of  treatment 
to  which  my  slaves  are  subjected,  so  paternal  are  the  relations 
which  subsist  between  us,  that  my  enemies  have  sometimes  had 
the  candor  to  call  them  '  my  children,'  and  to  speak  of  me  '  as 

*  Speech  of  Mr.  Rives  in  the  Senate  of  the  United  States. 


92  PETER  SCHLEMIHL. 

their  father.'     And  can  that  service  be  called  servitude  which  is 
freely  rendered  and  delighted  in  ?" 

"And  do  your  slaves  never  run  away?"  inquired  Mrs.  Smith, 
earnestly. 

The  Gentleman  in  Black  was  again  for  an  instant  embarrassed 
by  the  directness  of  her  inquiry,  but  with  an  amused  smile,  re 
plied  : 

"  The  truth  is,  my  dear  madam,  I  do  have  now  and  then  a  slave 
who  pines  for  his  native  home,  and  who  seeks  his  liberty  ;  and 
in  all  such  cases,  if  I  cannot  make  my  service  agreeable  to  him, 
I  let  him  go  where  he  pleases.  What  can  be  more  fair  than  this  ? 
No  abolitionist  could  ask  for  more." 

"  Nothing,  surely,"  replied  Mrs.  Smith ;  "  but  what  are  the 
means  you  adopt  to  detain  them  ?  This  1  must  know  before  I  can 
give  a  just  judgment  in  the  case." 

"  Well,  madam,  if  the  disaffected  is  a  young  girl,  as  is  often 
the  case,  my  overseers,  who  are  very  numerous,  seek  out  for  her 
some  attractive  and  fond  lover,  and  so  fill  up  the  vacancy  in  her 
heart,  which  is  the  cause  of  all  this  discontent;  and  if  she  has  a 
lover,  he  excites  some  young  girl,  perhaps  prettier  than  herself, 
to  detach  him  from  her,  and  this  gives  the  mind  all  the  occupa 
tion  that  is  needed  in  the  case ;  or  sometimes  a  new  play,  or  a 
new  dress,  answers  the  purpose  just  as  effectively,  so  that  lovers 
are  the  last  thing  resorted  to  by  my  agents." 

"  But  should  she  be  married  ?"  inquired  Mrs.  Smith. 
%  "  Why  then  the  case  is  more  difficult ;  but  I  have  found  a 
new  house  very  efficacious  ;  or  if  she  have  a  good  house,  new 
furniture ;  and  if  she  has  these  already,  then  it  answers  a  good 
purpose  to  put  up  some  of  her  neighbors  to  outshine  her ;  to 
leave  her  out  of  a  party,  or  to  get  up  a  little  scandal  about  her 
husband  or  herself." 

"  Well,  that  is  the  queerest  of  all  methods  of  making  people 
contented !" 

"  It  does  excellently  well,  I  assure  you,  for  whatever  fills  up 
the  mind,  has  the  effect  of  expelling  all  this  nostalgia,  which  is 
the  only  source  of  disaffection  I  have  to  contend  with.  Marry 
ing  their  children  well,  is  another  very  good  plan,  and  gives  them 
pleasant  occupation  while  it  lasts,  and  after  a  certain  age  they 
never  desire  to  leave  their  present  modes  of  life  and  occupation. 

"  With  my  male  slaves  my  course  is  somewhat  different,  as 
you  may  well  suppose,  but  I  find  means  just  as  efficacious  to 
win  them  to  my  service." 

"  What  is  this  certain  period  of  life,  of  which  you  speak  ?" 

"  I  deem  all  who  have  passed  the  age   of  thirty-five  as  tole- 


OF  FOURIERISM.  9o 

rably  safe  ;  but  after  fifty,  it  is  very  rare,  indeed,  for  them  ever 
to  desert  me.  All  the  inducements  which  the  abolitionists  are 
able  to  present,  either  orally,  or  by  their  tracts,  lose  all  power 
over  them,  and  their  habits  then  become  confirmed ;  and  their 
duties  to  me  are  so  light  and  easy,  that  they  have  no  inquietudes, 
and  so  become  very  grave  and  dutiful  slaves  in  all  time  to  come." 

"  Permit  me  to  inquire  how  you  employ  all  these  slaves  of 
yours  ?"  asked  the  lady,  whose  good  opinion  of  the  Gentleman 
in  Black  was  evidently  returning,  which  was  evidenced  by  the 
tones  of  kindness  in  which  the  question  was  asked. 

"  Here,  dear  Mrs.  Smith,  is  the  great  secret  of  my  success. 
In  connection  with  their  entire  freedom  of  religious  opinions,  I 
give  full  and  free  license  to  all  my  slaves,  young  and  old,  men 
and  women,  to  do  just  what  pleases  them  best,  leaving  to  my 
overseers,  under  my  general  supervision,  to  combine  their  several 
employments  for  the  advancement  of  my  own  especial  interests." 

"Indeed!  then  you  have  in  fact  put  into  successful  operation 
the  ideal  Phalanxes  of  Fourier,  which  have  been  so  often  at 
tempted  and  failed;  not,  'tis  said,  because  there  is  any  imperfec 
tion  in  his  theory,  but  because  attempted  by  those  but  partially 
acquainted  with  his  system,  and  which  every  new  association  that 
is  formed,  think  they  can  mend." 

The  Gentleman  in  Black  smiled  very  sweetly,  and  with  an  air 
of  extreme  modesty,  said :  "I  fear,  dear  Mrs.  Smith,  you  will 
think  me  somewhat  arrogant  and  vain,  if  I  should  venture  to  say 
that  I  believe  Fourier  has  taken  some  of  his  ideas  from  me,  and 
that  his  system  is,  substantially,  my  own ;  though  if  I  said  this 
to  the  world,  I  should  doubtless  be  challenged  on  all  sides,  and  I 
am  the  more  diffident,  inasmuch  as  Mr.  Robert  Owen  is  in  the 
field  before  me,  who  assured  me  in  person,  that  Fourier  never 
knew  why  a  Phalanstery  should  consist  of  two  thousand  rather 
than  any  other  number,  till  he  told  him  the  reason." 

"  And  why  two  thousand?  I'm  sure  I  don't  know,  though  I 
have  heard  a  great  deal  of  '  associations,'  *  harmonies  of  nature,' 
and  industry,  and  '  phalanxes,'  talked  into  me  by  many  of  my  fair 
friends,  who  seem  bent  on  renovating  the  world." 

The  Gentleman  in  Black  looked  inquiringly  into  the  face  of 
Mrs.  Smith,  but  it  was  radiant  with  spirit  and  innocence,  alive 
only  to  the  interest  she  took  in  the  discussion.  He  continued : 
*  It  has  been  deemed  a  great  discovery,  which  Fourier  claims  to 
be  peculiarly  his  own,  though  in  this,  as  in  all  such  questions, 
there  are  hundreds  who  have  in  centuries  past  had  their  '  Repub 
lics,'  their  '  Utopias,'  and  '  Oceanas,'  by  which  the  world  was  to 
be  perfected,  and  all  sin  and  misery  annihilated,  when  the  days 
of  Paradise  are  to  be  renewed,  and  the  face  of  the  earth  again  to 


94  PETER  SCHLEMIHL. 

blossom  and  bloom  like  the  Garden  of  Eden.  Fourier  has  gone 
yet  farther,  for  he  suggests,  that  the  aromas  arising  from  the  earth 
being  condensed  in  accordance  with  the  action  of  certain  laws, 
would  gradually  form  beautiful  planes  or  rings,  which  would  add 
to  the  beauty  of  our  skies,  like  those  of  Saturn,  and  that  the 
Aurora  Borealis  would  become  what  he  styles  a  Boreal  Crown, 
of  such  intensity  as  to  rescue  the  circum-polar  regions  from  their 
graves  of  ice,  and  warm  them  into  life  and  vegetation." 

"  Well,  it  is  a  beautiful  conception,  and  I  wish  it  may  be  true." 

"That  the  world  is  to  be  regenerated  and  redeemed,  I  also  be 
lieve  ;  though  the  way  of  attaining  this  grand  result  may  not  be 
in  the  way  projected  by  these  Socialists." 

"I  have  ever  felt  much  interest  and  sympathy,"  said  Mrs. 
Smith,  "  in  every  plan  which  contemplates  a  higher  degree  of 
civilization,  and  an  advance  in  human  happiness,  though  I  must 
confess  I  never  could  see  how  the  conflicting  passions  of  men 
and  women,  and  the  desire  of  personal  aggrandizement,  could  ever 
be  subverted,  or  so  directed  as  to  accomplish  these  desirable  ends. 
And  now,  will  you  tell  me  more  of  your  methods  of  managing 
your  slaves,  in  accordance  with  the  system  of  leaving  every  one 
to  do  just  what  pleases  him  or  her  best?" 

"  This,  madam,  as  I  have  before  said,  is  the  secret  of  my  suc 
cess  and  of  their  failures;  but  in  my  system  I  have  been  all  the 
while  directing  their  energies  secretly  and  silently;  but  with  these 
Social  communities,  there  has  been  no  such  controlling  intellect. 
The  system  of  '  Unitary  Associations^  on  paper,  has  had  its 
difficulties,  even  before  being  reduced  to  experiment;  for  when 
asked,  *  In  this  system  of  every  one  doing  only  as  he  pleases,  who 
would  please  to  do  the  dirty  work,  and  act  as  the  scavengers  T 
they  were  as  effectively  nonplussed  as  a  distinguished  senator  in 
the  height  of  the  year  of  nullification,  when  conversing  with  an  old 
statesman  from  the  North,  who  chanced  to  be  in  the  senate-cham 
ber  at  the  time,  and  to  whom  he  was  showing  the  feasibility  of 
his  plan  of  a  separate  republic,  by  the  inquiry,  '  Where  will  you 
go  for  your  stevedores?'  Now  this  was  a  class  of  operatives 
the  Gentleman  Planter  had  never  heard  of;  and  the  old  gentle 
man  assured  him  of  the  pleasure  which  it  gave  him  to  know  that 
there  was  one  class  of  laborers  which  the  new  republic  must  im 
port  from  their  Northern  neighbors ;  one  point  of  dependence 
yet  existing;  one  strand  of  the  cable  which  yet  held  the  states 
together;  but  in  the  case  of  the  Fourierists,  this  enigmatical 
question,  *  Who  would  please  to  act  as  their  scavengers  ?'  was 
solved  by  assigning  these  arduous  and  unpleasant  duties  to  their 
little  children," 


THE  SCAVENGERS  IN  PHALANSTERIES.  95 

"  To  their  little  children !"  exclaimed  Mrs.  Smith,  in  a  tone 
which  spoke  her  utter  abhorrence  at  the  thought. 

"  Yes,  madam,  to  their  children,  in  whom  they  assumed  to  have 
discovered  a  proclivity  for  such  pursuits."* 

"And  where  are  the  mothers  to  be  found  who  would  consent 
that  their  children  should  be  so  employed  ?  —  even  if  there  were 
such  degrading  and  disgusting  tendencies  in  their  natures,  and 
which  seems  to  me  to  be  a  poor  beginning  of  a  system  which 
seeks  to  attain  the  perfectibility  of  human  nature." 

"  The  theory,  madam,  merges  the  individual  affection  in  those 
of  the  phalanx  ;  so  that  the  present  relations  are  to  be  subverted, 
and  the  sympathies  of  parent  and  child  are  to  be  lost  in  the  gene 
ral  good."t 

"But  can  this,  by  any  course  of  change  in  the  conditions  of 
society,  be  attained  ?" 

"It  is  very  confidently  predicted  that  it  can  be  and  will  be.'* 

"But  even  if  it  were  possible,  is  it  desirable  ?" 

"  That  is  a  question  which  presents  the  gist  of  the  whole 
theory.  The  Socialists  deem  it  both  desirable  and  attainable; 
and  the  only  way  in  which  the  present  conditions  of  society, 
which  they  hold  with  HOBBES  to  be  a  state  of  warfare,  in  which 
each  one  seeks  his  own  good  at  the  cost  of  his  neighbor,  and  that 
the  range  of  injury  is  graduated  by  the  differences  which  exist  in 
the  several  states  of  individuals  as  to  poverty  and  wealth  ;  and 
the  higher  the  scale  of  civilization,  the  wider  the  circle  of  objects 
over  which  this  principle  of  hostility,  subversion,  and  injury 
extends." 

"Indeed,  I  fear  there  is  some  truth  in  this  representation  of 
society  as  it  now  is ;  but  I  can't  conceive  how  the  world  is  to  be 
renovated  by  the  sacrifice  of  the  relation  of  parent  and  child ; 

*  "In  the  gardens  they  (the  little  children)  will  grub  up  the  noxious  weeds, 
in  the  kitchen  they  will  turn  the  little  spits,  shell  peas,  sort  the  fruit,  wash  the 
plates,  etc." — PARK  GODWIN 

t  "Plato,"  in  his  "Republic,"  says:  "Let  the  woman  be  held  in  common,  let 
the  children  be  in  common."  This,  however,  is  not  adopted  yet  by  the  Socialists. 
They,  however,  teach:  "In  general,  we  think  it  would  be  found  that  the  groups 
of  nurses  so  excellent,  the  public  halls  so  well  adapted  to  health,  and  the  ad 
vantages  every  way  so  decided,  that  the  larger  part  of  the  women  would  of 
choice  leave  their  children  to  the  education  of  the  proper  groups,  in  which, 
doubtless,  the  mother  would  be  herself  enrolled;"  and  to  show  the  fallacy  of 
this  last  part  of  the  sentence,  and  that  it  is  thrown  in  merely  as  a  make-weight, 
the  author  on  the  same  page  teaches:  "The  number  of  women  necessary  to 
the  care  of  young  children  being  limited,  nature  has  given  the  inclination  of  that 
kind  of  occupation  to  a  few  only."  "It  would  be  easy  to  assure  ourselves 
that  this  was  the  case,  if  the  spirit  of  our  present  society  did  not  oblige  women, 
to  dissimulate  and  feign  tastes  that  are  often  opposite  to  their  very  organiza 
tion." — PARK  GODWIN. 


95  PETER  SCHLEMIHL. 

indeed,  it  is  to  me  inconceivable  how  a  mother  can  consent  to 
unite  herself  to  such  an  association,  or  relinquish  for  a  day  the 
care  of  her  children  to  groups  of  nurses,  even  if  they  were 
angels." 

"  My  dear  madam,  children  are  very  pretty  in  pictures,  but  are 
often  found  to  be  sad  realities  in  every  day  life." 

"Heavens!"  exclaimed  Mrs.  Smith,  with  an  emotion  which 
suffused  her  eyes  in  tears,  "how  gladly  would  I  sacrifice  all  the 
splendor  which  surrounds  me,  to  be  possessed  of  but  one  beauti 
ful  and  healthy  infant !" 

The  Gentleman  in  Black  was  touched  ;  a  smile  of  tenderness 
and  benevolence  for  an  instant  lit  up  his  face  and  eyes,  and  made 
him  look  as  though  transfigured  into  an  angel  of  light ;  but  it  soon 
passed  away,  and  the  cold,  calm  look,  which  was  sometimes  dark 
and  sinister,  resumed  its  place. 


CHAPTER   VI. 

The  Gentleman  in  Black  upon  slavery — His  manner  of  managing  his  slaves 
— Character  of  his  girls — Methods  of  keeping  them  quiet — His  opinion  of 
woman — The  religious  character  of  his  slaves — their  penances — Contrasts 
the  superstitions  of  his  serfs,  with  those  of  The  Church — The  character  of 
monks  and  nuns — Alvan  Butler,  on  Purgatory — Treatment  of  Satan  by 
the  Fathers — A  fashionable  monk,  and  fashionable  life  fourteen  hundred 
years  ago — St.  Chrysostom  on  virgins. 

MRS.  SMITH  hid  her  face  in  her  hands,  until  she  had  regained 
her  self-possession ;  when,  looking  up,  she  requested  the  Gen 
tleman  in  Black  to  tell  her  more  about  his  system  of  labor ;  and 
asked : 

"  What  is  the  prevailing  religion  among  your  slaves  ?  I  pre 
sume  they  are,  as  all  slaves  are  said  to  be,  very  religious  ?" 

"  The  religion  of  my  slaves  is  various  indeed,"  replied  the 
Gentleman  in  Black,  with  great  vivacity,  and  an  air  of  the  utmost 
frankness.  "  They  are  at  liberty  to  worship  as  many  gods  as 
they  please,  for  I  pride  myself  in  being  tolerant.  Some  of  them 
are  rather  lax,  but  most  of  them  are  very  devout,  and  delight  in 
macerations,  stripes,  pilgrimages  ;  some  again  are  exceedingly 
dogmatical,  and  ready  to  fight  for  abstractions  which  no  human 
sagacity  can  make  palpable  even  to  themselves.  It  don't  matter 


THE  GENTLEMAN  IN  BLACK  ON  SLAVERY.  97 

much  to  me  what  they  worship.  The  idols  of  the  imagination 
are  just  as  real  as  the  idols  of  gold  and  silver,  and  those  who 
deem  themselves  too  wise  to  worship  the  creations  of  art,  are 
those  most  devoted  to  the  creations  of  fancy." 

"  You  just  now  spoke  of  the  efforts  of  the  Abolitionists  among 
your  slaves.  And  do  you  allow  them  to  come  upon  your  planta 
tions  ?" 

"  I  can't  help  it,  madam ;  they  will  come,  in  spite  of  all  I  can 
do;  and  so  I  do  the  best  I  can  to  weaken  their  influence,  by 
showing  my  slaves  the  folly  of  giving  up  the  known  for  the  un 
known,  the  seen  for  the  unseen ;  and  I  am  rarely  unsuccessful,  I 
assure  you.  I  must,  however,  confess  to  you,  with  much  morti 
fication  on  my  part,  that  at  the  outset  of  their  irruption  into  my 
territory,  I  allowed  my  agents  to  apply  Lynch  Law  to  them  pretty 
actively  and  extensively ;  but  I  found  that  so  far  from  securing 
my  object,  it  made  my  slaves  believe  that  that  which  was  told 
them  by  stealth,  and  at  the  risk  of  life  and  limb,  must  be  some 
thing  specially  desirable  ;  and  in  consequence  of  this  mania,  lost 
my  slaves  in  great  numbers.  Finding  out  my  mistake,  I  changed 
my  policy :  though  on  some  of  my  plantations  my  agents  still 
adhere  to  this  plan,  believing  it  to  be  best  to  compel  submission  ; 
but  I  assure  you,  my  dear  madam,  it  is  against  my  enlightened 
judgment  in  such  cases,  and  which  I  everywhere  disclaim  and 
deny  as  any  part  of  my  code  of  government.  But  what  can  I 
do  ?  I  can't  be  everywhere  at  once,  and  my  agents  will  act  as 
they  please  when  I'm  away." 

"  That's  true,"  said  Mrs.  Smith;  "  your  plan  is  certainly  the 
best,  and  I  do  wish  our  southern  planters  would  adopt  it;  we 
should  not  then  have  this  hateful  slave  question  with  all  its  enor 
mities,  alienating  one  section  of  the  country  from  the  other." 

"  I  am  satisfied  it  is  not  only  wisest,  safest,  and  best  for  the 
slaves,  but  for  the  masters,  who  have  the  curse  of  slavery  resting 
upon  them." 

"  And  do  you  speak  of  slavery  as  a  curse  resting  upon  the 
masters?" 

"  Yes,  madam,  I  do.  The  fetter  and  the  chain  which  binds 
the  ankle  of  the  slave  is  fastened  to  a  galling  collar  encircling  the 
neck  of  the  master;*  and  the  only  method  I  have  found  success 
ful  in  relieving  myself  from  inquietude  was  to  adapt  my  service 
to  an  exact  accordance  with  the  tastes  and  temperaments  of  my 
bondsmen." 

"  I  am  sure  you  are  amply  repaid  for  any  losses  you  may  have 

*  St.  Pierre. 


98  PETER  SCHLEMIHL. 

sustained,  by  the  delightful  consciousness  that  they  feel  your  ser 
vice  to  be  one  of  choice  and  not  of  compulsion." 

The  Gentleman  in  Black  bowed,  with  an  air  of  extreme  mo 
desty,  of  one  who  blushed  at  the  hearing  his  own  praise  so 
sweetly  spoken,  and  replied  : 

"  It  would  not  become  me  to  speak  in  commendation  of  my 
own  lenity,  but  it  is  not  uncommon  for  those  who  have  left  my 
service  to  return  ;  and  I  assure  you,  in  no  instance  have  I,  or  my 
agents,  ever  punished  their  delinquencies,  but  rather  received 
them  as  returning  prodigals  ;  and  of  such  I  can  truly  say,  that 
their  zeal  in  my  service  is  greatly  increased  by  such  a  course  of 
treatment." 

"  Indeed,  sir,  for  one,  I  do  not  doubt  it ;  and  only  wish  our 
Southern  gentlemen  would  take  you  for  a  pattern,  in  the  manage 
ment  of  their  poor  slaves,  who  if  they  are  recovered,  or  return 
from  a  fond  desire  of  their  old  homes  and  associates,  are  too  often 
sold  into  some  distant  state,  so  that  'their  last  state  is  worse  than 
their  first.'  " 

"  My  dear  madam,  that's  just  what  the  Abolitionists  tell  my 
bondsmen,  but  they  themselves  never  complain  of  their  reception 
and  subsequent  treatment,  so  that  all  these  representations  of  a 
condition  they  never  realize  to  be  true,  have  only  the  effect  to 
rivet  their  attachment  to  my  service  the  stronger." 

"  And  are  all  your  slaves  productive  workers  ?  This  is  con 
templated,  I  believe,  in  all  the  Phalansteries  of  Unitative  Asso- 
ciationists." 

"  Oh  no,  madam,  this  making  every  man  and  woman  a  mere 
working  machine,  is  no  part  of  my  plan,  and  would  be,  as  I  be 
lieve  it  ever  will  be,  impracticable.  But  all  my  slaves  doing  just 
what  they  please,  please  me  in  doing  what  they  do." 

"  And  yet  you  must  have  some  very  idle  and  worthless  crea 
tures  among  them,  and  such  as  you  must  find  it  hard  to  turn  to 
any  good  account.  Is  it  not  so  ?" 

"  It  is  indeed  so  ;  and  sometimes  I'm  puzzled  to  find  out  the 
way  of  making  some  of  my  young  girls  of  any  sort  of  use  what 
ever.  Their  whole  souls  are  devoted  to  the  gratification  of  their 
vanity,  their  love  of  admiration,  dressing  and  undressing  of  them 
selves  ;  and  such  is  the  wretched  effect  of  pursuits  so  trivial  and 
contemptible,  that  their  souls  have  no  expansion,  and  their  hearts 
become  incapable  of  any  generous  emotions.  The  sacrifice  of  a 
single  opportunity  to  exhibit  their  prettinesses  causes  a  tempest 
of  passion  hardly  to  be  conceived  of." 

"  I  fear  you  are  too  severe  upon  the  poor  creatures.  They 
have  but  few  objects  to  interest  them,  and  naturally  seek  to  attain 


BYRON'S  OPINION  OF  WOMEN.  99 

that  grace  and  beauty  which  is  the  secret  of  their  strength  and 
influence." 

"But  it  is  not,  if  they  knew  it;  they  would  be  irresistible 
could  they  but  know  that  the  attractions  they  covet  are  shallow 
and  worthless,  and  the  beauty  they  so  sedulously  seek  to  heighten, 
is  only  permanently  influential  when  they  possess  those  graces 
of  the  mind  and  affections,  and  that  gentleness  and  loveliness  of 
demeanor  which  they  know  is  the  highest  attraction ;  but  of  which 
they  rarely  seek  more  than  the  shadow.  One  of  their  greatest 
favorites,  and  whose  poems  they  place  under  their  pillows,  and 
on  their  centre-tables,  has  said  of  them :  *  Women  were  ever 
fated  to  be  my  bane.  Like  Napoleon,  I  have  always  had  a  great 
contempt  for  women ;  and  formed  this  opinion  of  them  not  hastily, 
but  from  my  own  fatal  experience.  My  writings,  indeed,  tend  to 
exalt  the  sex,  and  my  imagination  has  always  delighted  in  giving 
them  a  beau  ideal  likeness,  but  I  only  drew  them  as  a  painter  or 
a  sculptor  would  do — as  they  should  be.  The  Turks  and  East 
ern  people  manage  these  matters  better  than  we  do  :  they  lock 
them  up,  and  they  are  much  happier.  Give  a  woman  a  looking- 
glass  and  a  few  sugar-plums,  and  she  will  be  satisfied.'*  This  pic 
ture  is  drawn  by  one  who  has  seen  society  in  its  highest  forms, 
and  may  be  considered  a  capable  judge.  'Tis  true,  there  are  a 
few  who  are  susceptible  of  a  strong  passion,  which  takes  them 
out  of  themselves,  and  whatever  direction  this  takes,  it  is  a  sure 
indication  of  a  superior  nature.  Now,  as  I  have  said,  they  get 
sometimes  weary  of  the  worthlessness  of  their  pursuits,  and  an 
abolitionist  will  sometimes  inspire  them  with  a  strong  desire  for 
the  homes  and  skies  of  their  forefathers,  by  picturing  the  beauty 
and  happiness  they  may  attain  by  leaving  my  service  ;  and  they 
give  me  some  trouble  to  reclaim  them,  though  I  am  made  to  feel 
that  they  are  hardly  worth  the  cost  of  the  gew-gaws  by  which 
they  are  won,  and  the  exercise  of  the  little  arts  by  which  they  are 
to  be  retained." 

"  But  why  keep  them  in  your  service  ?  "Why  not  let  them 
run,  if  they  are  desirous  of  going?" 

"  Ah,  madam,  whatever  may  be  my  real  estimate  of  their  cha 
racters,  they  are,  after  all,  essential  and  necessary  to  me." 

"  For  what  purpose,  if  they  are  so  worthless  in  themselves  ?" 

"  I  must  have  them  for  wives  and  mothers.  They  are  useful 
to  me  in  this  way,  that  they  keep  up  my  stock  of  slaves,  who 
take  their  characters  from  their  mothers ;  and  you  can  readily  see 
that  I  cannot  aflbrd  to  lose  them.  Now  there  is  nothing  I  so 
much  dread,  as  the  influence  of  an  intellectual  female  ;  one  whose 

*  Lord  Byron's  Conversations  with  Lieutenant  Medwin. 


100  PETER  SCHLEMIHL. 

soul  is  the  seat  of  all  pure  and  generous  emotions  ;  whose  high 
est  happiness  is  found  in  the  discharge  of  the  domestic  duties  of 
life  ;  whose  sympathies  are  alive  to  all  that  is  beautiful  and  true, 
and  whose  mind  is  actively  occupied  in  the  attainment  of  all  that 
knowledge  and  literature,  which  give  grace  and  charm  to  her  con 
versation,  and  makes  her  the  companion  and  counsellor  of  her  hus 
band  and  his  friends  ;  who  enriches  every  topic  by  the  beauty  of 
her  imagination,  and  inspires  in  others  the  love  of  all  that  gentle 
ness,  purity  and  peace,  which  hallows  and  glows  in  her  own  soul; 
such  a  female  mind  is  the  most  attractive  and  most  noble  of  all 
the  creations  of  Deity ;  but  they  are  not  the  sort  of  daughters, 
wives  and  mothers  that  suit  me,  for  they  give  me  more  trouble 
than  a  thousand  of  such  as  I  have  described.  Their  children 
seem  formed  for  a  higher  condition  than  that  to  which  they  are 
born,  and  are  full  of  aspirations,  which  'tis  hard  for  me  to  repress 
or  subvert ;  so  you  can  readily  see,  that  it  would  be  greatly  to  my 
injury  to  propagate  a  class  of  minds  which  I  am  compelled  to  re 
verence  and  admire.  Fortunately  for  me,  most  of  my  women 
are  *  pleased  with  a  rattle,  and  tickled  by  a  straw.' ': 

"  I  fear,  sir,"  said  Mrs.  Smith,  "  you  are  a  woman-hater. 
Were  you  ever  married  ?" 

The"  Gentleman  in  Black  changed  color,  and,  for  an  instant,  his 
eye  fell  on  the  carpet ;  and,  in  a  tone  so  low  as  to  be  almost  in 
audible,  he  replied :  "  I  am  no  woman-hater.  I  had  hoped  the 
sentiments  I  have  just  expressed,  would  have  satisfied  you  that 
there  are  women  whose  virtues  I  appreciate,  and  whose  worth  I  ac 
knowledge."  And  musing  for  a  moment,  he  continued — "  I  be 
lieve  that  if  Christianity  should  be  compelled  to  flee  from  the 
mansions  of  the  great,  the  Academies  of  the  philosophers,  or  the 
throng  of  busy  men,  we  should  find  her  last  and  purest  retreat 
with  Woman  at  the  fireside;  her  last  altar  would  be  the  female 
breast ;  her  last  audience,  the  children  gathered  around  the  knees 
of  a  mother;  her  last  sacrifice,  the  secret  prayer,  escaping  in  si 
lence  from  her  lips,  and  heard  only  at  the  throne  of  GOD." 

The  Gentleman  in  Black  remained  silent,  as  if  absorbed  by  re 
collections  which  were  full  of  tender  and  sad  remembrances  of 
the  past ;  and  Mrs.  Smith  felt  she  had  unconsciously  pained  her 
visitor  by  questions  which  were  too  sacred  to  be  prosecuted  fur 
ther;  and  to  change  the  subject,  inquired: — 

"  In  what  forms  do  the  religious  tendencies  of  our  nature  ex 
hibit  themselves  among  your  slaves?" 

"They  are  so  various,  madam,  that  it  were  a  hard  task  to  tell 
you,"  replied  the  Gentleman  in  Black,  with  some  what  of  his  for 
mer  cheerfulness  of  manner. 

"  Will  you  not  be  pleased  to  tell  me  of  some  of  them?" 


PENANCES  OF  THE  EAST.  101 

"  They  are,  madam,  characterized  by  penances  of  various  sorts, 
and  especially  as  practised  by  those  whom  they  style  '  Tapas ;' 
whose  prayers  are  earnestly  solicited  by  those  around  them,  who 
minister  to  their  wants  and  passions  in  every  way  possible.  The 
more  painful  and  difficult  these  penances  are,  the  more  they  are 
revered.  And  these  consist  of  standing  on  one  foot,  and  holding 
the  other,  at  the  same  time,  with  their  eyes  fixed  on  the  sun. 
This  is  quite  a  distinguished  penance.  Others  stand  on  the  top 
of  their  toes  for  a  length  of  time  which  Fanny  Elssler  has  never 
attempted ;  others  are  buried  in  the  earth,  with  a  pipe  which  sup 
plies  them  with  air  and  food;  some  stand  on  their  heads,  others 
hang  by  the  hands  on  a  tree,  or  hang  from  the  tree  with  their 
heads  downward ;  all  these  penances  are  prescribed  in  their  books, 
which  they  style  the  Puranas.  Some  go  about  with  their  heads 
turned  upward  to  the  heavens,  and  others  with  their  arms  crossed 
on  their  breasts,  in  a  thoughtful  posture,  and  with  downcast  looks, 
as  if  in  profound  meditation  ;  others,  with  their  arms  stretched  out 
horizontally,  and  some  who  are  called  Munis,  are  doomed  to 
perpetual  silence. 

"But  while  some  of  my  slaves  are  doomed  to  a  state  of  painful 
immobility,  others,  called  the  Choura-asin,  are  in  constant  acti 
vity,  going  through  eighty-four  sitting  postures  or  changes,  remark 
able  for  their  difficulty ;  but  the  most  singular  of  all  their  penances, 
which  they  call  the  Kassali,  and  which  is  exquisitely  painful, 
consists  in  their  standing  with  their  bare  feet  upon  the  areka,  or 
betel-nut." 

"Can't  these  be  boiled  soft?"  inquired  Mrs.  Smith.  "Would 
it  not  be  a  kindness  to  translate  for  them  Peter  Pindar's  Pilgrim 
and  the  Peas  ?" 

"  It  would  doubtless  be  a  kindness,"  replied  the  Gentleman  in 
Black,  smiling;  "but  these  creatures  are  excessively  attached  to 
these  extreme  tortures  ;  the  least  and  most  common  of  which  is, 
the  elevation  of  the  hands  above  the  head,  which  is  persevered  in 
till  they  become  immovable,  the  finger-nails  perforating  the  palms. 
The  Batsiri  sit,  never  lying  nor  rising.  Others  hold  their  breath  for 
an  incredible  length  of  time,  and  others  again  sit  surrounded  with 
four  fires,  at  the  cardinal  points,  intense  as  they  can  be  borne. 
Such  are  the  favorite  austerities  of  my  Eastern  serfs  ;  and  though 
they  are  of  no  value  to  me  as  producers,  yet  they  keep  the  rest 
of  my  slaves  in  due  subjection  to  my  overseers  by  their  frightful 
pictures  of  the  future  destinies  of  such  as  are  refractory,  which  it 
is  their  province  to  avert,  and  for  which  they  are  well  paid :  and 
as  most  of  these  penances  are  necessarily  of  short  duration,  the 
devotees  gain  by  them  a  full  scope  for  the  indulgence  of  their 
passions,  without  any  loss  of  the  respect  of  their  devotees.  On 


102  PETER  SCHLEMIHL. 

• 

other  plantations,  the  exhibition  of  the  religious  sentiment  differs, 
and  the  most  sensible  of  them  all,  is  the  form  adopted  and  prac 
tised  by  the  rudest  of  my  bondsmen.*  Their  GOD  is  an  ugly 
image,  before  which  their  priests  set  a  huge  wheel  on  which 
they  nail  the  prayers  for  the  day,  which  the  priests  turn  round 
with  the  utmost  indifference,  leaving  it  to  the  option  of  the  image 
to  take  notice  of  them  or  not,  as  it  chooses." 

"  Your  people  are  most  miserably  debased  truly,  and  I  wonder 
you  can  consent  to  the  continuance  of  such  practices,  which 
would  be  deemed  a  disgrace  in  any  age  or  country  under  the 
influence  of  the  Christian  religion,"  said  Mrs.  Smith,  with  some 
asperity  of  manner. 

"  Not  so  unlike  those  practised  by  the  Christian  Church,  as  you 
may  suppose,"  replied  the  Gentleman  in  Black,  tartly. 

"  Indeed  !  In  what  dark  agq  and  country  have  ever  such  enor 
mities  been  practised  ?  No,  sir,  you  must  pardon  me ;  I  can't 
believe  you." 

"  You  may  believe  me  or  not  as  you  please,  and  as  you  think 
so  highly  of  'the  pure  and  pristine  ages  of  the  Church,'  I  will,  if 
you  please,  enlighten  you  on  this  subject.  I  have  the  materials 
at  hand,"  said  the  Gentleman  in  Black,  looking  toward  the  fathers 
of  the  church. 

Mrs.  Smith  shook  her  head  incredulously. 

"  I  shall  not  undertake  to  show  you  the  same  disgusting  exhibi 
tions  of  self-inflicted  tortures,  imposed  under  the  idea  of  propiti 
ating  heathen  idols,  but  penances  as  utterly  at  war  with  the  spirit 
of  Christianity,  practised  and  praised  by  the  saints  in  those  early 
ages  of  the  Church,  which  some  persons  are  pleased  to  regard 
as  the  purest  and  the  best.  A  system  of  self-immolation  not 
unlike  what  I  have  described  to  you  as  existing  among  my  own 
slaves,  originated  with  Paul  the  Egyptian,  who,  in  the  seventh 
persecution,  retired  to  a  private  cave,  and  lived  unseen,  till  St. 
Anthony  discovered  him  just  before  his  death  and  buried  him, 
and  took  possession  of  his  cave.  The  notion  that  the  soul  is 
clogged  by  the  body,  and  its  virtues  impeded  by  its  connection 
with  it,  operating  on  the  indolent  and  melancholy  turn  of  many 
persons  in  the  southern  climate  of  Asia,  especially  of  Egypt,  led 
them  to  affect  an  austere  and  solitary  life,  as  destitute  as  possible 
of  everything  that  might  pamper  the  body,  or  gratify  those  appe 
tites  and  passions  which  were  supposed  to  have  their  seat  in  the 
flesh.  Hence  arose  the  notion  of  the  greater  purity  and  excel 
lence  of  celibacy,  of  which  I  have  spoken.  It  is  the  same 
principle  which  has  made  Essenes  among  the  Jews,  Monks  among 

*  The  Calmuc  Tartars. 


RISE  OF  MONACHISM.  103 

the  Christians,  Dervises  among  the  Mahommedans,  and  Fakirs 
among  the  Hindoos.*  Finding  so  many  followers,  St.  Anthony 
drew  up  his  famous  Rules  and  Orders,  of  which  Erasmus  speaks 
in  his  colloquies,  which  are  but  transcripts  of  those  institutes 
Pythagoras  imposed  on  his  collegiates  in  order  to  their  monastic 
life,  and  which  he  brought  out  of  Egypt  when  he  forbade  matri 
mony  to  those  of  his  sect,  and  constituted  a  cloister  of  nuns,  over 
which  he  placed  his  daughter.! 

"And  so  utterly  corrupt  had  the  state  of  the  church  and  the 
Christian  world  become,  that  a  distinguished  writer,  speaking  of 
this  subject,  says :  'Within  two  hundred  years  from  the  death 
of  Chrysostom,  Mahomet  broke  upon  the  world,  and  the  tempest 
of  heresy  which  he  raised  came  as  a  blast  of  health  upon  the 
nations.  What  Mahomet  and  his  Caliphs  found  in  all  directions, 
whither  their  cimeiars  cut  a  path  for  them,  was  a  superstition  so 
abject,  an  idolatry  so  gross  and  shameless,  church  doctrines  so 
arrogant,  church  practices  so  dissolute  and  puerile,  that  the  strong- 
minded  Arabians  felt  themselves  inspired  anew,  as  GOD'S  mes 
sengers,  to  reprove  the  errors  of  the  world,  and  authorized  as 
GOD'S  avengers  to  punish  apostate  Christendom. "J 

"All  this  is  very  startling,"  said  Mrs.  Smith;  "but  how  are 
such  rhetorical  assertions  sustained  ?  Give  me,  if  you  please,  a 
bill  of  particulars." 

"  That  is  easily  done  ;"  and  rising  from  his  seat,  the  Gentle 
man  in  Black  went  to  the  cases  and  selected  several  of  those  old 
patristic  folios,  and  laying  them  on  the  table,  continued  the  con 
versation,  by  saying : 

"  In  order  to  show  you  how  nearly  the  self-sacrificing  devotions 
of  my  slaves  resemble  the  practices  of  the  early  ages  of  the 
Church,  permit  me  to  state  to  you  the  prevailing  customs  as  they 
are  here  stated,"  laying  his  hands  on  the  volumes  before  him. 
"  According  to  their  faith  and  zeal,  these  Recluses  employed  their 
days,  which  were  passed  in  their  cells,  either  in  vocal  or  mental 
prayer  :  those  associated  in  monasteries  assembled  in  the  evening, 
and  they  were  awakened  in  the  morning,  for  the  public  worship 
of  the  fraternity.  Even  sleep,  the  last  refuge  of  the  unhappy,  was 
rigorously  measured :  the  vacant  hours  of  the  monk  rolled  along 
without  business  or  pleasure  ;  and  before  the  close  of  each  day,  he 
had  repeatedly  accused  the  tedious  progress  of  the  sun.  In  this 
comfortless  state,  Superstition  still  pursued  and  tormented  her 
wretched  votaries.  The  repose  they  sought  was  disturbed  by  a 
tardy  repentance,  profane  doubts  and  guilty  desires ;  and  while 

*  Corruptions  of  Christianity,  vol.  ii.,  p.  386. — See  Mosheirn,  vol.  i.  p.  307. 
+  Gale's  Court  of  the  Gentiles,  vol.  ii.,  p.  212. 
\.  Taylor's  Ancient  Christianity. 


104  PETER  SCHLEMIHL. 

they  considered  each  natural  impulse  as  an  unpardonable  sin,  they 
perpetually  trembled  on  the  edge  of  a  flaming  and  bottomless 
abyss.  From  the  painful  struggles  of  disease  and  despair,  these 
unhappy  victims  were  relieved  by  madness  or  death.  Their 
visions,  before  they  attained  this  extreme  and  acknowledged  term 
of  frenzy,  have  afforded  ample  materials  of  supernatural  history. 
It  was  their  firm  persuasion  that  the  air  they  breathed  was  peopled 
with  invisible  enemies ;  with  innumerable  demons,  who  watched 
every  occasion  and  assumed  every  form,  to  terrify,  and  above  all, 
to  tempt  their  unguarded  virtue.* 

"In  the  performance  of  the  penances  they  practised,  stimulated 
by  applause  and  emulation,  they  sunk  under  the  painful  weight  of 
crosses  and  chains  ;  and  their  emaciated  limbs  were  confined  by 
collars,  bracelets,  gauntlets  and  greaves,  of  massy  and  rigid  iron. 
All  superfluous  incumbrance  of  dress  they  contemptuously  cast 
away ;  and  some  savage  saints  of  both  sexes  have  been  admired, 
whose  naked  bodies  were  only  covered  by  their  long  hair  ;  they 
allowed  their  beards  and  nails  to  grow,  and  sometimes  became  so 
hirsute,  as  to  be  actually  mistaken  for  hyaenas  and  bears.!  Thus 
they  aspired  to  reduce  themselves  to  the  rude  and  miserable  state 
in  which  the  human  brute  is  scarcely  distinguished  above  his 
kindred  animals  :  and  a  numerous  sect  of  anachorets  derived  their 
name  from  their  humble  practice  of  grazing  in  the  fields  of  Meso 
potamia  with  the  common  herd.J  And  so  late  as  the  tenth, 
eleventh  and  twelfth  centuries,  the  forests  of  France  and  Germany 
were  haunted  by  naked  anachorets,  who  round  the  year,  roamed 
about,  refusing  even  the  comforts  of  a  cavern,  and  were  wont  to 
repose  on  the  fresh-fallen  snow.§ 

"It  is  said  of  some  of  the  Abbots  of  Egypt,  that  they  had  five, 
seven,  and  even  ten  thousand  monks  under  their  direction  ;  and 
the  Thebais,  as  well  as  certain  spots  in  Arabia,  are  reported  as 
literally  crowded  with  solitaries.  Seventy  thousand,  at  the  end 
of  the  fourth  century,  of  all  classes,  were  at  one  time  to  be  found 
in  Egypt  alone, ||  so  small  a  country  as  you  well  know  this  to  be ; 
and  the  writings  of  these  fathers  leave  no  doubt  as  to  the  preva 
lence  of  the  ascetic  system  throughout  all  the  countries  to  which 
they  belonged ;  namely,  Syria,  Egypt,  Arabia,  Asia  Minor, 
Thrace,  Italy,  Gaul,  Spain  and  North  Africa.  They  recount 
with  fervid  eloquence  their  utter  neglect  of  the  body.  In  certain 

*  The  devils  were  most  formidable  in  a  female  shape. — Rosweyde, 
j-  Taylor,  p.  427,  quoting  Palladius. 

J  Gibbon,  chap.  37. — Theodoret  has  in  a  large  volume  the  lives  of  these 
grazing  monks. 

§  Fanaticism,  p.  75. 

J  Fleury,  Hist.  EccL,  quoted  in  "Corruptions  of  Christianity,"  vol.  ii.,  p.  391. 


SUFFERINGS  OF  MONKS.  105 

instances,  the  leathern  girdle  was  found,  after  death,  to  have  lodged 
itself  in  the  integuments  of  the  loins,  so  as  in  ordinary  cases  to 
have  occasioned  intense  sufferings  ;  yet  never  had  they  betrayed 
the  secret  to  any  one  by  any  indications  of  uneasiness.  And 
instances  still  more  extreme  and  far  too  revolting  to  describe, 
abound  in  these  records  of  Monachism."* 

"  What  could  have  induced  this  horrid  state  of  things  ?"  in 
quired  Mrs.  Smith. 

"It  arose,  madam,  from  the  idea  of  expiation  by  these  self- 
inflicted  torments. 

^  The  doctrine  of  expiation,  by  penance  in  this  life,  of  the  pains 
otherwise  to  be  endured  in  purgatory,  had  taken  fast  hold  of  the 
religious  mind ;  and  in  their  pictures  of  purgatorial  pains,  the 
fathers  drew  largely  upon  that  special  knowledge  of  the  infernal 
regions  which  the  privileged  commerce  of  the  ascetics  with  devils 
had  so  well  supplied  them  ;t  and  some  idea,  madam,  of  their 
extent  and  character  may  be  attained  by  reading  the  '  Lives  of  the 
Saints,'  by  Rev.  Alvan  Butler,  (a  comparatively  recent  work,) 
who  says,  *  a  soul,  for  one  venial  sin,  shall  suffer  more  than  all 

*  Fanaticism,  p.  74. 

t  The  manner  in  which  the  devil  has  been  treated  by  these  saints,  is  most 
wonderful.  Southey  says,  "The  part  assigned  to  the  devils  in  books  of 
Hagiography  is  that  of  the  clown  in  pantomime ;  and  Grimaldi  would  have 
represented  him  more  to  the  life  than  Fuseli  or  Sir  Thomas  Lawrence  have 
done."  The  devil,  he  says,  is  represented  as  "beaten,  trampled  upon,  pulled 
by  the  nose,  exhibited  by  St.  Opportuna  to  all  her  nuns,  like  a  beast  in  a  cage, 
outraged,  taunted  and  put  to  shame  in  all  manner  of  ways."  The  story  of  St. 
Dunstan  pulling  the  devil's  nose  may  be  found  in  Fuller's  Worthies,  vol.  i.,  327. 
St.  Dominic  was  very  hard  on  the  devil;  at  onetime  he  compelled  him, 
in  the  shape  of  a  monkey,  to  hold  a  candle  for  him  till  it  was  burnt  to  the 
last  snuff.  Another  time,  the  devil  having  assumed  the  form  of  a  flea,  and 
plagued  the  saint  in  his  studies,  he  fastened  him  to  the  book  he  was  reading, 
and  only  allowed  him  to  skip  from  one  page  to  another  as  the  saint  himself 
turned  over  the  leaves ;  for  Dominic,  instead  of  cracking  him  at  once,  made 
him  serve  as  his  mark.  The  famous  story  of  St.  Dunstan  is  related  at  large  by 
Southey,  Vind.  Ecc.  Angl.,  p.  269,  who  gives  it  in  the  original  authorities.  For 
the  story  of  King  Edwy,  see  Sharon  Turner's  Anglo-Saxons,  vol.  ii.,  p.  403. 

St.  Cyprian  informs  us,  that  when  he  was  studying  magic,  he  was  par 
ticularly  intimate  with  the  devil:  "I  saw  the  devil  himself,  I  conversed  with 
him,  and  was  esteemed  one  of  those  who  held  a  principal  rank  about  him." 
Who  can  doubt  the  assertion  of  so  great  a  Saint! 

It  appears,  that  in  those  days  of  wonders,  the  devil  usually  wore  a  black 
gown,  with  a  black  hat ;  and  it  was  observed,  that,  whenever  he  was  preach 
ing,  his  glutei  muscles  were  as  cold  as  ice. 

St.  Jerome  states  that  St.  Hilarius  was  often  flagellated  by  the  devil,  whom 
he  calls  "a  wanton  gladiator."  St.  Athanasius  informs  us  St.  Anthony  was 
often  visited  in  the  like  manner.  St.  Jerome  thus  describes  the  process : — 
" The  merry  gladiator  sits  on  his  back;  arid  beats  his  sides  with  his  heels, 
and  his  neck  with  his  whip." 


106  PETER  SCHLEMIHL. 

the  pains  of  distempers,  the  most  violent  colic,  gout  and  stone, 
joined  in  complication  ;  more  than  all  the  most  cruel  torments 
undergone  by  malefactors,  or  invented  by  the  most  barbarous 
tyrants  ;  more  than  all  the  tortures  of  the  martyrs  summed  up 
together.  This  is  the  idea,'  he  says,*  'which  the  Fathers  give 
us  of  purgatory ;  and  how  long  many  souls  have  to  suffer  there, 
we  know  not.'  Now,  if  a  small  part  of  all  this  was  believed,  and 
it  was  doubtless  received  in  all  its  fulness  by  these  poor  naked 
and  half-starved  hermits,  who  regarded  their  bodies  as  their  chiefest 
of  enemies,  why  should  they  not  sacrifice  their  bodies  here,  so 
as  to  save  their  souls  from  such  inconceivable  wretchedness 
hereafter  ?" 

"And  were  all  these  multitudes  of  recluses  subjected  to  like 
destitution  ?" 

"Certainly  not,  as  I  will  show  you;"  so  saying,  he  opened 
Saint  Chrysostom.t  "It  seems  that  the  customs  of  the  third 
century,  against  which  Cyprian  inveighed,  had  not  improved  in 
the  days  of  Chrysostom.  Not  only  did  the  aged  monks  avail 
themselves  of  the  offices  and  society  of  young  women  in  their 
.  cells,  but  young  monks  did  also  the  same ;  while,  on  the  other 
hand,  the  young  nuns  entertained  a  cortege  of '  philosophic'  para 
mours,  under  various  pretexts,  which  are  described  on  page  310, 
and  the  pages  following,  of  this  the  first  volume  of  Chryisostom's 
works.  It  may  amuse  you  to  know  something  of  the  customs  of 
these  'pure  and  pristine  days  of  the  church;'  permit  me  to  read 
you  a  passage  or  two  from  pages  of  this  volume. 

"The  pious  Father  exclaims :  '  What  a  sight  it  is,  to  enter  the 
cell  of  a  SOLITARY  monk,  and  to  see  the  apartment  hung  round 
about  with  female  gear,  shoes,  girdles,  reticules,  caps,  bonnets, 
combs  and  the  like,  too  various  to  mention ;  but  what  a  jest  it  is 
to  visit  the  abode  of  a  rich  monk,  and  to  look  about  you  :  for  you 
find  the  solitary  surrounded  with  a  bevy  of  lasses,  one  might  say, 
just  like  the  leader  of  a  company  of  singing  and  dancing  girls. 
What  can  be  more  disgraceful  ? — and,  in  fact,  the  monk  is  all  day 
long  vexed  and  busied  with  the  petty  affairs  proper  to  a  woman 
....  not  merely  is  he  occupied  with  worldly  matters,  contrary 
to  the  apostolic  precept,  but  with  even  feminine  cares :  these 
ladies  being  very  luxurious  in  their  habits,  as  well  as  imperious  in 
their  tempers.'  He  goes  on  to  give  the  particulars  :  '  The  good 
man  is  liable  to  be  sent  on  fifty  errands  ;  to  the  silversmith,  to 
inquire  if  my  lady's  mirror  is  finished ;  if  her  vase  is  ready  ;  if 
her  silver  cruet  had  been  returned ;  and  from  silversmith's  to  the 

*  Lives:  for  November  2.     This  work  is  reprinted  in  this  country,  and  has 
gone  through  several  editions, 
f  Chrysostom,  torn.  i.  p.  279. 


FASHIONABLE  LIFE  IN  THE  FOURTH  CENTURY.  107 

perfumer's,  and  thence  to  the  linen-draper's,  and  thence  to  the 
upholsterer's ;  and  at  each  place  he  has  twenty  particulars  to  re 
member.'  Then  the  father  goes  on  to  describe,  in  addition  to  all 
these  cares,  'the  jars  and  scoldings  that  are  apt  to  resound  in  a 
house  full  of  pampered  women  ;'  and  urges  them,  'as  the  warriors 
of  the  church,  to  be  clad  with  spiritual  armor,  and  not  take  on 
themselves  the  office  of  waiting  like  menials  upon  worthless  girls, 
or  to  busy  themselves  with  their  spinnings  and  sewings,  and 
spend  the  livelong  day  by  their  side,  while  at  work,  imbuing  their 
minds  with  effeminate  trifles." 

"Truly,  this  is  a  strange  picture !"  exclaimed  Mrs.  Smith  with 
real  astonishment  and  unaffected  surprise,  "of  '  The  Lights  and 
Shadows  of  Fashionable  Life?  as  it  existed  fourteen  hundred 
years  ago." 

"  Yes,  indeed ;  and  Chrysostom  makes  an  acknowledgment 
not  so  complimentary  as  I  could  wish  it,  as  to  the  authors  of  all 
this  licentiousness,"  said  the  Gentleman  in  Black. 

"  Is  it  in  that  volume  ?"  Mrs.  Smith  inquired,  with  some  hesi 
tation. 

"Yes,  it  is  here,"  turning  to  page  304.     "Shall  I  read  it?" 

"  I  am  rather  doubtful  as  to  hearing  any  more  of  these  morceaux. 
And  yet,  if  you  think  it  readable,  you  may  go  on.  I  shall  in  this 
instance  trust  to  your  discretion." 

"  It  is  a  very  eloquent  and  powerful  passage,  in  the  Father's 
best  style,  and  I  am  sure  there  is  nothing  in  it  which  can  pain 
you  save  the  melancholy  confession  it  makes  of  the  authors  of 
this  reign  of  riot  and  misrule  in  the  church."  So  saying,  the 
Gentleman  in  Black  read  as  follows : 

"  Alas,  my  soul !  well  may  I  so  exclaim,  and  repeat  the  lamenta 
ble  cry  with  the  prophet !  Alas,  my  soul !  Our  virginity  has 
fallen  into  contempt ;  the  veil  is  rent  with  impudent  hands,  that 
parted  it  off  from  matrimony  ;  the  holy  of  holies  is  trodden  under 
foot,  and  its  grave  and  tremendous  sanctities  have  become  profane, 
and  thrown  open  to  all ;  and  all  that  which  was  once  held  in  reve 
rence,  as  far  more  excellent  than  matrimony,  is  now  sunk  so  low, 
that  one  should  rather  call  the  married  blessed,  than  those  who 
profess  it.  Nor  is  it  an  enemy  that  has  effected  all  this  ;  but 
the  VIRGINS  themselves  ! ' ' 

"  Poor  dear  girls  !  how  truly  they  were  to  be  pitied! "  said  Mrs. 
Smith.  "After  all,  this  state  of  hopeless  seclusion  of  gentle  and 
loving  girls,  in  the  days  of  infancy  and  childhood,  and  which  is  still 
practised,  seems  to  me,  now  that  I  think  of  it,  as  more  to  be  de 
tested  than  any  of  the  austerities  practised  among  your  slaves.  I 
think  I  must  confess,  the  superstitions  engrafted  upon  Christianity 
are  the  most  dreadful  of  all  others." 


108  PETER  SCHLEMIHL. 

"I  beg  you  to  believe  I  have  not  exhausted  the  subject."* 
"Pardon  me ;  though  you  may  not  have  exhausted  the  subject." 
said  Mrs.  Smith  very  kindly,  and  smiling,  "  you  have  my  capacity 
to  hear  any  more  on  a  topic  so  full  of  horrors.     I  had  much  rather 
you  should  speak  to  me  of  yourself  than  of  others." 

Mrs.  Smith  could  not  have  been  conscious  of  the  very  gentle 
tones  in  which  these  words  were  expressed,  though  they  were 
winged  with  flames,  if  the  flush  which  glowed  on  the  face  of  the 
Gentleman  in  Black  spoke  truly. 


CHAPTER  VII. 

In  which  Mrs.  Smith  requests  the  Gentleman  in  Black  to  relate  some  of  the 
incidents  of  his  life — Her  reasons  are  given — The  Gentleman  in  Black 
states  that  he  is  in  pursuit  of  Peter  Schlemihl — Causes  which  compelled 
him  to  recover  his  purse — The  Gentleman  in  Black  elected  unanimously 
into  the  Board  of  Brokers — His  operations — "Old  Nich."  and  himself  rivals 
in  "  the  street" — The  causes  which  led  to  the  destruction  of  the  Great  Bank — 
to  the  late  war  with  England — Failures  of  the  friends  of  the  Gentleman 
in  Black — Settles  with  his  friends,  etc. 

THE  Gentleman  in  Black  now  rose,  and  proposed  to  Mrs. 
Smith  returning  to  the  saloon,  to  which  she  readily  acceded  ;  and 
resuming  her  seat  before  the  mirror,  with  a  look  of  gentle  en 
treaty,  she  asked  the  Gentleman  in  Black  "  if  she  was  not  to  be 
told  something  relating  to  his  own  adventures,  which  she  had 
rather  know  than  any  of  the  scenes  he  might  present  her  in  the 
glass." 

The  Gentleman  in  Black  was  really  embarrassed  by  the  re 
quest,  and  reluctantly  took  his  seat  on  the  lounge,  with  the  air  of 
one  quite  at  a  loss  how  to  meet  the  request  which  had  been  made 

*  The  manners  of  the  days  of  Chrysostom  seem  to  have  come  down  with 
he  monastic  institutions  to  later  days;  old  Fuller,  in  his  "History  of  the 
Church,"  book  vi.,  p.  315,  says  amours  were  very  general  among  the  English 
nuns,  and  he  speaks  of  very  extensive  powers  of  absolution  for  certain  vices  : 
writing  of  love-letters,  interviews  at  grated  windows,  employing  smiths  to  re 
move  bars,  as  well  as  holy  contemplations  in  the  church  at  night  between 
two  lovers."  Fosbrooke,  in  his  History  of  British  Monachism,  (quarto,  Lon 
don,  1817,)  has  given  a  full  view  of  the  rise  and  progress,  manners  and  cus 
toms  of  Monachism  in  Great  Britain. 


NARRATIVE  OF  THE  GENTLEMAN  IN  BLACK.  109 

of  him.  His  air  of  embarrassment  only  tended  to  incite  the  lady's 
curiosity,  and  to  make  her  gaze  the  more  inquiring  and  earnest. 
The  Gentleman  in  Black  looked  up  smiling,  and  said : 

"  The  interest  you  have  so  kindly  expressed  in  my  fortunes,  is 
every  way  gratifying ;  the  only  difficulty  I  find  in  the  matter  is 
to  select  from  among  the  incidents  of  my  life  some  one  or  more 
which  may  give  you  pleasure." 

"  If  that  be  all,"  said  Mrs.  Smith,  "  I  will  at  once  relieve  you 
by  requesting  you  to  tell  me  how  long  you  have  been  in  town, 
and  what  may  have  brought  you  here  ?  I'm  half  ashamed  of  my 
curiosity,  but  then  it  is  the  custom  of  the  country,  and  as  I  shall 
desire  to  introduce  you  to  the  circles  of  my  friends,  they  will  of 
course  expect  me  to  inform  them  as  to  all  these  particulars ;  so 
you  see  it  is  no  mere  curiosity  that  impels  me,  but  the  desire  to 
make  you  at  home  with  us." 

"  You  are  indeed  very  kind — very  kind,"  answered  the  Gen 
tleman  in  Black,  with  an  air  of  the  greatest  courtesy  and  respect. 
"  I  shall  be  most  happy  to  become  more  intimately  acquainted 
with  each  and  all  of  your  friends,  but  of  all  and  above  all,  my 
dear  madam,  with  yourself." 

"  Oh  indeed,  I  think,"  replied  Mrs.  Smith,  gaily,  "  we  may  as 
well  write  ourselves  down  as  old  and  familiar  friends ;  no  one 
need  know  that  it  is  not  so ;  but  that  it  may  be  so,  you  see  I 
must  know  who  my  old  friend  and  familiar  acquaintance  is,  and 
what  has  brought  him  to  the  city." 

"  Certainly — and  I  will  at  once  tell  you.  You  have  doubtless 
heard  of  Peter  Schlemihl  ?" 

"  What,  poor  Peter  Schlemihl  who  sold  his  shadow  for  a  purse 
of  gold  ?  Yes,  I  have  heard  of  him  many  years  since  ;  but  what 
of  him?" 

"  Well,  my  dear  madam,  I  have  come  to  this  country  to  seek 
him  out,  and  to  punish  him  for  his  many  acts  of  inconceivable 
injustice  toward  me ;  a  more  base  and  desperately  wicked  fellow 
is  not  to  be  found :  through  his  mischievous  agency,  I  have  been 
all  but  ruined  and  disgraced  in  all  the  countries  of  Europe ; 
represented  as  a  mere  shadow  dressed  in  a  garb  of  poverty, 
and  the  slave  of  an  upstart  millionaire  whom  he  calls  Thomas 
John.  And  what  is  the  charge  he  has  preferred  against  me  ? 
Why,  that  I  exchanged  my  purse  of  Fortunatus  for  this  mise 
rable  shadow !"  So  saying,  the  Gentleman  in  Black  put  his  hand 
into  his  pocket,  and  taking  out  what  seemed  like  a  roll  of  very  deli 
cate  black  tissue  paper  or  fine  silk,  shook  out  the  very  shadow  of 
the  poor  miserable  Peter.  At  the  request  of  Mrs.  Smith,  who 
handed  him  some  pins,  which  must  have  been  taken  from  some 
covert  part  of  her  own  dress,  the  Gentleman  in  Black  pinned  it  up 


110  PETER  SCHLEMIHL. 

on  the  drapery  of  the  window,  which,  as  has  been  already  stated, 
hung  loose  by  the  rings. 

"  And  is  this  the  very  shadow  ?"  said  Mrs.  Smith. 

"  Yes,  madam,  the  identical  shadow." 

"  After  all,  it  is  not  much  of  a  shadow ;  and  you  gave  him  an 
inexhaustible  purse  for  that  shadow  ?" 

"  No,  madam ;  that  is  one  of  Peter's  lies — his  rascally  frauds. 
I  loaned  him  the  purse  for  a  stipulated  period,  and  he,  not  content 
with  the  use  of  the  purse  for  the  time  specified,  ran  off  with  it, 
madam — absconded  !  And  more  than  that,  he  has,  by  some  ras 
cally  process  which  I  do  not  understand,  possessed  himself  of  in 
visibility,  and  having  no  shadow,  you  may  guess  the  trouble  I 
have  had  in  seeking  him,  and  of  recovering  my  purse ;  a  matter 
of  the  utmost  importance  to  me,  as  you  may  guess  ;  and  as  it  is  de 
sirable  you  should  know  of  the  causes  which  led  me  to  this  country 
at  this  time,  it  may  be  well  to  tell  you  the  misfortunes  which 
made  it  necessary  for  me  to  chase  this  fugitive,  who  with  his 
seven-league  boots  has  thus  far  eluded  my  pursuit, — but  his  flight 
is  somewhat  retarded  by  the  loss  of  his  boots." 

"  And  has  he  lost  his  boots  ?" 

"  Yes,  madam  ;  they  were  by  a  happy  accident,  stolen  from 
him.  But  I  am  anticipating  my  story." 

"  I  beg  you  will  not,  but  tell  it  to  me  in  due  order.  I  am  sure 
it  must  be  very  surprising — seeking  a  man  without  a  shadow  or 
a  body,  endowed  with  seven-league  boots,  too ;  it  must  be  to  you 
no  common  task." 

"  My  dear  madam,  you  make  a  mistake.  He  has  a  body,  but 
not  visibility.17 

"  Well,  it  is  wonderful ;  and  I  beg  you  will  tell  me  all  about  it." 

"  I  am  fearful,"  said  the  Gentleman  in  Black,  "  that  I  shall 
weary  you  with  my  story,  and  that  it  will  rob  you  of  your  re 
pose,  which  you  must  need  after  so  much  fatigue  of  body  and 
mind  as  you  have  gone  through  with  this  day." 

"  I  thank  you,  my  dear  sir,  for  your  kind  consideration  of  my 
comfort;  but  the  fact  is  it  would  be  utterly  impossible  for  me  to 
sleep  after  so  much  nervous  excitement,  and  it  will  be  quite  a 
relief  to  me  to  be  amused  and  interested,  as  I  am  sure  to  be,  by 
the  relation  you  have  promised  me." 

The  Gentleman  in  Black  commenced  by  saying:  "I  met  Peter 
Schlemihl  a  poor  fellow,  in  the  depths  of  poverty  and  despair  ;  and 
touched  by  sympathy  for  his  extreme  melancholy,  I  offered  him 
the  use  of  my  purse  for  the  slender  shadow  you  see  there,"  point 
ing  to  the  curtain,  "  which  shows  the  effects  of  poor  fare  and  hard 
study ;  and  though  he  has  always  denied  the  fact,  it  was  well  under 
stood  at  the  time  that  for  the  use  of  the  purse  so  given,  the  sha- 


Ill 

dow  was  but  the  pledge  of  the  body,  to  be  surrendered  at  some 
future  period." 

"  What  could  he  do  for  you,  that  he  was  so  desirable  to  you  ?" 
"  I  wanted  him  to  be  my  amanuensis,  as  he  is  very  remarka 
ble  for  the  rapidity  of  his  hand-writing,  though  it  requires  some 
scholarship  to  make  it  out;  but  the  especial  reason  why  I  have 
been  compelled  to  seek  him,  I  will  now  state  to  you,  and  you 
will  see,  that  however  worthless  he  may  be,  my  purse  had  lost 
none  of  its  value. 

"  It  is  now  some  twenty  years  since  I  came  to  this  city,  merely 
to  pass  the  winter  and  spring,  and  to  return  to  Europe  in  June  fol 
lowing.  I  had  not  been  in  the  country  for  some  years,  and  wish 
ing  to  be  as  quiet  as  possible,  I  took  private  rooms  at  the  '  Star 
Hotel,'  and  entered  my  name  as  Thomas  Jones,  and  for  a  while 
was  perfectly  secure  in  my  incognito  ;  but  accidentally  meeting 
with  some  old  friends,  who  had  become  the  conspicuous  ope 
rators  in  Change  Alley,  I  was  drawn  out  from  my  retreat  and  al 
most  compelled  to  accept  their  earnest  and  most  hospitable  invita 
tions  to  their  several  houses.  I  assure  you  I  was  not  at  all  prepared 
for  the  astonishing  changes  I  found  in  their  circumstances.  Men 
whom  I  had  left  dealing  in  merchandise  and  stocks,  in  small  sums, 
living  in  modest  houses  at  a  rent  of  four  or  five  hundred  dollars  a 
year,  now  received  me  in  splendid  mansions,  costing  in  themselves 
a  fortune,  and  these  were  filled  with  the  finest  furniture,  and  adorn 
ed  with  mirrors  of  surpassing  size  and  beauty.  Their  walls  were 
covered  with  pictures,  more  remarkable  for  their  antiquity  than 
any  beauty  I  could  discern  in  them,  but  which  they  assured  me 
were  from  the  pencils  of  the  '  old  masters.'  One  of  them  even 
showed  a  '  Madonna  in  the  Chair?  of  which  he  had  a  smoky 
certificate  pasted  on  the  back,  stating  it  to  be  a  duplicate  of  that 
wonder  of  the  art  in  the  Pitti  palace ;  and  another  had  a  '  Forna- 
rini?  which  he  convinced  me  was  genuine,  though  I  was  some 
what  skeptical  at  first,  but  of  which  I  could  no  longer  doubt  when 
he  showed  me  in  the  depth  of  the  coloring  of  the  shadow  of  her 
dress,  the  monogram  of  Raphael  himself.  There  was  one  pic 
ture  to  which  my  especial  attention  was  called,  and  upon  which 
I  was  specially  requested  to  pass  my  opinion.  It  seemed  to 
me  a  mere  mass  of  black  paint,  relieved  by  some  few  white 
spots ;  but  what  it  was  designed  to  represent  was  altogether  be 
yond  my  skill  to  discover ;  and  finding  myself  so  perfectly  at  a 
loss,  and  not  daring  to  venture  a  guess,  I  candidly  confessed  the 
embarrassment  in  which  I  was  placed.  My  friends,  for  it  was  at 
a  dinner  party,  all  cried  out,  '  it  was  capital,'  '  a  most  admirable 
criticism,'  there  was  '  nothing  but  black  paint  to  be  seen,'  etc. ; 
'but  our  host,  not  at  all  disconcerted,  said  that '  the  picture  was  a 


112  PETER  SCHLEMIHL. 

*'  Salvator  Rosa"  and  we  should  see  it  to  be  so,  and  he  should 
enjoy  our  surprise.'  So  he  directed  all  the  shutters  to  be  closed 
save  a  single  half  window;  and  to  be  sure,  there  were  discernible 
some  armed  men  at  the  entrance  of  what  we  were  told  was  a 
cave,  in  the  act  of  throwing  dice,  and  in  the  foreground  some 
pieces  of  plate.  '  There,'  said  he,  '  there's  the  triumph  of  art!1 

"  He  looked  for  applause,  and  it  was  given  ;  for  who  could  re 
fuse  to  applaud  the  taste  of  a  gentleman  who  gave  good  dinners, 
and  whose  wines  were  faultless  ?  To  be  sure  the  merits  of  a 
picture  so  plastered  with  dark  brown  and  black  paint  as  to  be 
undistinguishable,  were  not  so  much  to  my  taste  as  his  dinners 
and  wines  were ;  yet  as  he  assured  us  it  was  a  genuine  '  Salvator 
Rosa,'  having  swallowed  his  wines,  I  must  needs  do  the  same 
with  his  pictures.  I  assure  you,  my  dear  madam,  this  is  no 
exaggeration  of  the  *  old  masters'  which  I  have  had  exhibited  to 
me  in  this  country.  But  whatever  may  have  been  my  misgiv 
ings  as  to  the  genuineness  of  the  particular  *  old  masters,'  I  had 
no  doubt  as  to  the  sums  paid  for  them,  of  which  they  showed 
me  the  receipted  bills  in  order  to  make  *  assurance  doubly  sure.' 
And  though  even  then  I  might  have  had  some  lurking  suspicions 
that  in  these  matters  my  friends  may  have  taken  the  copy  for 
the  original,  I  could  not  be  mistaken  as  to  the  solidity  and 
costliness  of  the  rich  plate  with  which  their  tables  were  literally 
covered.  I  have  visited  merchants  of  other  countries,  but  none 
whose  riches  were  more  apparent  than  that  of  my  friends  in 
Babylon.  It  seemed  as  if  the  lamp  of  Aladdin  had  come  into 
their  possession,  and  that  the  wealth  I  saw  in  all  their  houses 
was  created  by  some  process  purely  magical. 

'*  Nor  was  my  surprise  limited  by  these  exhibitions  of  taste 
and  luxury.  Their  entertainments  were  varied  and  costly,  their 
wines  unsurpassed,  except  in  the  palaces  of  some  of  the  princes 
of  the  German  Empire.'  Tis  true,  they  had  no  Johannisberg  in 
their  bottles,  but  the  labels  were  in  their  proper  places  on  the 
outside  of  them ;  and  I  was  assured,  and  had  no  reason  to  doubt, 
that  every  bottle  cost  as  much  as  the  Johannisberg  would  have 
done  had  Prince  Metternich  brought  his  few  hundred  pipes  into 
the  wine  market,  instead  of  supplying  only  the  tables  of  kings 
and  emperors,  as  he  is  accustomed  to  do.  The  wine  was  indeed 
admirable,  and  was  drunk  with  a  gusto,  and  the  glass  was  held 
up  to  the  eye  before  drinking  with  that  knowing  air  which  few 
have  any  knowledge  of,  and  which  distinguishes  men  who  know 
what  they  drink  and  how  to  drink. 

"  Our  conversation,  I  found,  took  a  uniform  turn  to  stocks ;  to 
grand  systems  of  improvement  of  the  country;  digging  canals, 
laying  down  railroads,  and  establishing  new  lines  of  packets, 


THE  CIRCLE  OF  FINANCIERS  IN  BABYLON.  113 

with  some  peculiarity  of  terms  as  to  making  a  good  '  corner'  on 
this  stock,  and  '  hammering  down'  another  stock,  and  '  burst 
ing  a  bank'  now  and  then ;  all  of  which,  I  was  told,  were  '  fair 
business  transactions.'  They  sometimes  held  a  long  talk  as  to 
getting  up  a  '  leader"1  for  the  organs  of  the  party  for  a  particular 
purpose ;  and  on  such  occasions  two  or  more  would  retire  to  a 
side-table  to  prepare  the  article,  which  was  to  be  read  and  ap 
proved  by  the  assembled  party ;  or  it  might  be  to  get  up  a  set  of 
patriotic  resolves  for  congress,  for  their  legislature,  or  for  a  ward 
committee.  Indeed,  there  were  few  things  these  friends  of  mine 
did  not  take  in  hand ;  and  so  varied  and  multiform  were  their 
movements,  that  I  was  perfectly  at  a  loss  to  conceive  to  what  all 
these  things  tended.  I  was  indeed  charmed  by  the  frankness 
with  which  they  alluded  to  these  matters  before  me,  almost  a 
stranger  as  I  was  to  some  of  them ;  and  seeing  that  they  spoke 
of  their  moneyed  affairs  as  being  so  prosperous,  of  which,  indeed, 
I  had  the  most  marked  and  beautiful  manifestations  in  everything 
that  surrounded  me,  I  ventured  to  mention,  with  no  little  diffi 
dence,  and  as  one  hazarding  a  very  great  request,  to  a  compli 
ance  with  which  I  had  no  claims  whatever,  that  I  had  some 
spare  capital  in  foreign  stocks  which  paid  very  low  interest,  and 
if  they  could  point  out  a  way  of  a  better  investment  of  this  mo 
ney,  it  would  be  conferring  on  me  a  very  great  favor  to  let  me 
take  some  small  amount  of  their  stocks,  which  seemed  so  safe 
and  lucrative.  With  a  frankness  and  cordiality  altogether  irre 
sistible,  they  at  once  told  me  it  would  gratify  them  all  to  make 
me  a  partner  in  their  plans,  all  of  which  were  sure  to  succeed. 
Nothing  could  have  been  more  hearty  than  their  several  expres 
sions  of  readiness  to  aid  and  serve  me;  and  although  I  have  had 
some  acquaintance  with  men,  I  assure  you  I  was  for  once  per 
fectly  disarmed  of  all  suspicion  of  guile  in  these  capitalists  and 
financiers. 

"  They  asked  me  what  amount  of  capital  I  had  at  command  ; 
when  I  told  them  that  the  amount  of  funds  invested  in  stocks 
of  the  Bank  of  Amsterdam,  which  was  then  paying  me  but  two 
and  a  half  per  cent.,  was  some  eight  hundred  thousand  dollars, 
but  that  in  the  French  funds  I  had  some  six  millions  of  francs, 
besides  other  stocks  in  the  English  funds,  all  of  which  I  would 
willingly  transfer  to  stocks  paying  six  and  seven  per  cent,  per 
annum.  The  looks  of  pleasure  and  surprise  with  which  they 
received  this  announcement  should  have  excited  in  me  some  sus 
picion  and  watchfulness ;  but,  I  must  confess,  their  expressions 
of  pleasure  at  being  able  to  serve  me  were  so  natural,  and  had  so 
much  of  frank  and  noble  bearing  in  them,  and  were  seasoned 
with  so  many  agreeable  things  complimentary  to  myself,  that,  I 
8 


114  PETER  SCHLEMIHL. 

confess  to  you,  my  dear  madam,  I  became  the  dupe  of  my  own 
vanity. 

"The  next  week  or  two  passed  as  the  previous  weeks  had 
done ;  dinners  almost  every  day ;  concerts,  the  opera,  or  the 
churches;  soirees,  evening  parties,  with  glorious  suppers,  fol 
lowed  in  unbroken  succession.  There  were  no  more  nor  less 
attentions  on  the  part  of  my  friends,  but  somehow  I  found  my 
self  every  day  more  and  more  in  the  society  of  two  or  three  of 
these  friends,  who  were  either  more  assiduous  in  their  attentions, 
or  by  a  concert  of  action  on  the  part  of  the  others,  these,  more 
adroit,  were  appointed  to  manipulate  me  ready  for  the  general  use 
of  the  set.  From  these  friends  I  first  received  the  idea  of  set 
tling  in  Babylon  the  Less  for  a  few  years,  in  which  I  was  assured 
I  could  double  my  capital;  and  although  at  first  the  idea  did  not 
present  itself  to  me  in  an  attractive  form,  yet  by  degrees  it  was 
made  to  wear  a  very  bright  and  cheerful  aspect ;  so  that  at  length 
I  consented  to  entertain  the  idea  as  one  which  might  possibly  be 
adopted. 

"  One  day,  after  a  dinner  of  more  than  ordinary  excellence,  I 
found  myself  seated  with  these  especial  friends  in  a  saloon  emp 
tied  of  the  company,  who  were  all  attracted  into  the  other  rooms 
to  hear  a  splendid  pianist  who  had  been  invited  to  the  feast,  and 
in  a  tone  of  whispering  confidence,  one  of  the  three  said,  *  They 
had  been  thinking  of  the  various  ways  in  which  the  wish  I  had 
expressed  of  investing  my  funds  in  Babylonian  stocks  could  be 
best  carried  into  effect;  but  the  sum  was  so  large  and  the  re 
sponsibility  so  great,  that  with  all  the  friendship  they  so  sincerely 
entertained  for  me,  theyjwere  compelled  to  say  they  felt  it  too 
great  a  responsibility  for  them  to  assume.'  This  was  said  with 
tones  of  voice  truly  touching ;  indeed,  I  verily  believe  there  were 
tears  in  his  eyes  as  he  uttered  these  words.  What  could  I  say  ? 
So  far  from  seeking  the  control  of  my  moneys,  they  really  seemed 
to  shun  the  trust  they  feared  I  was  too  ready  to  impart.  How 
could  I  distrust  such  generous,  devoted,  and  dear  friends  ?  In 
fact  all  suspicion  was  at  an  end,  and  I  was  ready  to  adopt  any 
advice  they  had  to  offer.  They  told  me  they  had  agreed  to  ad 
vise  me  to  become  a  member  of  the  Board  of  Brokers  in  Change- 
Alley,  and  then  I  could  make  my  own  investments  ;  in  doing 
which  they  were  always  at  hand  to  help  me,  and,  with  my  per 
mission,  they  would  at  once  propose  my  name  at  the  next  ses 
sion  of  the  Board. 

"Although  I  had  but  little  idea  of  the  honorable  fraternity  of 
brokers,  whose  sessions  are  all  secret,  yet  as  my  friends  were 
members,  I  was  ready  to  consent,  though  I  could  not  but  express 
my  fears  that  I  should  be  '  black-balled ;'  a  method  of  ostracism 


OF  UNION  CLUBS  IN  BABYLON.  115 

which  is  very  much  practised  in  this  city  by  gentlemen,  who  have 
adopted  this  plan  for  preserving  their  union  clubs,  boards  of  di 
rectors,  and  other  select  and  distingue  associations,  from  any  ad 
mixture  with  those  whose  claims  to  membership  in  the  haul- 
monde  have  been  jeoparded  by  their  occupations  and  employments, 
and  which  serve,  for  gentlemen,  the  same  purpose  as  the  Virtuous 
Indignation  Societies,  of  which  you  have  told  me,  do  for  the  la 
dies.  Indeed,  I  was  told,  so  very  scrupulous  had  their  clubs 
become,  that  the  grandsons,  and  sons  even,  of  those  who  had,  to 
use  the  expression  of  Mrs.  Tripp,  '  cut  candles,'  had  mercilessly 
rejected  all  applicants  whose  callings  had  led  them  to  cut  broad 
cloth  in  any  lines  but  those  at  right  angles,  whatever  might  be 
their  standing  in  society  on  the  score  of  wealth.  All  deviations 
from  a  straight  line  was  like  a  bar-sinister  on  their  escutcheons, 
and  forever  excluded  them  from  admission  into  those  palaces  of 
red  sand-stone  into  which  they  sought  the  right  of  entree." 

"  That  seems  a  strange  decision,"  exclaimed  Mrs.  Smith ;  "  why 
should  curve  lines  be  considered  so  disreputable?" 

"  It  is  hard  to  say,  and  yet  mankind  have  ever  had  these  freaks 
of  fancy.  The  two  great  sects  of  Omar  and  Ali,  of  Persia,  for 
example,  have  been  created  out  of  the  differences  in  the  manner 
of  performing  their  ablutions.  The  point  in  dispute  is  simply 
this  :  whether  the  water  shall  be  poured  on  at  the  wrist,  and  so 
run  to  the  elbow,  or  poured  on  at  the  elbow  so  as  to  run  down  to 
the  wrist.  The  great  schism  of  the  Eastern  and  Western  churches, 
you  know,  arose  on  the  mere  question  as  to  the  proper  day  on 
which  EASTER  was  to  be  celebrated." 

"  Pardon  me  for  interrupting  you  ;  but  is  this  the  only  differ 
ence  existing  between  the  Greek  and  Roman  churches  ?" 

"This  was  the  point  of  divergence;  they  differ,  too,  some 
what  after  the  manner  of  the  Persians,  as  to  the  mode  of  apply 
ing  water  in  their  religious  rites;  the  Greek  Church,  with  the 
Emperor  Nicholas  for  its  champion,  stoutly  contends  that  the  in 
fant  shall  be  wholly  immersed  three  times  when  baptized,  while 
the  Catholic  is  content  with  pouring  the  water  on  the  face;  a 
difference  quite  sufficient  to  spill  blood  about." 

"  You  speak  as  though  men  had  a  particular  love  for  spilling 
each  other's  blood  about  trifles,"  said  Mrs.  Smith;  "nothing  of 
the  sort  happily  now  exists." 

"The  rack  and  the  stake  are,  to  be  sure,  somewhat  out  of 
fashion,  and  the  present  state  of  civilization  is  unfriendly  to  such 
obvious  manifestations  of  a  principle  still  vigorous  and  active. 
My  dear  Mrs.  Smith,  can  you  tell  me  the  difference  between  '  ex 
communication,'  and  the  fashionable  phrase  of 'excision,' adopted 
so  recently  in  this  country,  when  hundreds  of  churches  of  one 


116  PETER  SCHLEMIHL. 

school  exscinded  hundreds  of  churches  of  another  school,  all 
claiming  to  be  the  real  Simon  Pures  ?  and  this,  too,  about  a  ques 
tion  so  inexplicable  as  to  puzzle  Duns  Scotus,and  the  '  old  school' 
men  of  his  day?" 

"  Pray,  can  you  tell  me  what  was  the  gist  of  that  great  contro 
versy? — Do  you  know  ?"  inquired  Mrs.  Smith. 

The  Gentleman  in  Black  shrugged  his  shoulders,  and  said : — 
"  Yes,  I  had  the  honor  of  a  seat,  as  a  corresponding  member,  in 
the  General  Assembly,  and  though  I  took  no  part  in  the  discus 
sion,  I  have  been  blamed  by  both  parties ;  so  hard  it  is  to  please 
everybody.  The  question  in  dispute  wore  various  phases,  and 
became,  at  last,  a  division  of  the  south  against  the  north." 

"How  very  strange  !  But  it  must  have  been  based  upon  some 
sort  of  doctrine,  was  it  not?" 

"  Yes,  it  was  affirmed,  by  the  leader  of  the  old  school,  that  its 
' pivotal,  as  the  Fourierists  would  say,  was  the  reply  to  the  ques 
tion  in  the  celebrated  Westminster  Catechism :  '  What  is  sin  ?' 
The  old  school  contending  that  it  should  stand  as  it  now  reads  : 
'  Sin  is  any  want  of  conformity  to,  or  transgression  of,  the  law  of 
GOD.'  The  new  school  were  for  the  last  clause  only." 

"  Well,  this  is  a  nice  distinction,  truly ! — quite  equal  to  the  sects 
of  ALI  and  OMAR.  I  shall  not  puzzle  my  head  about  which  is 
right.  Pray  let  me  ask  the  question,  now  it  occurs  to  me,  do  you 
attend  the  coming  *  World's  Convention'  ?" 

"  'A  burnt  child  dreads  the  fire  !'  "  replied  the  Gentleman  in 
Black,  smiling.  "After  all  the  experience  I  have  had,  I  am  done 
with  councils,  and  convocations,  and  'general  assemblies'  of  all 
sorts,  especially  of  this  last;  for  whatever  course  I  should  adopt, 
I  should  be  sure  to  be  misconstrued.  If  I  advised  adherence  to 
the  standards  and  confessions  of  faith,  then  I  should  be  charged 
with  sowing  discord  ;  and  if  I  should  counsel  the  relinquishment 
of  all  these,  and  propose  some  stand-point  which  all  could  adopt, 
then  it  would  be  said  I  counseled  the  giving  up  the  old  founda 
tions  of  the  faith,  and  would  bring  about  a  union  more  disastrous 
than  a  deluge  of  fire  and  brimstone,  and  which  would  finally  en 
gulf  the  churches  in  a  dead  sea  of  lifeless  uniformity.  So  I 
have  concluded  to  stay  away." 

"  I  beg  your  pardon  for  leading  you  away  from  your  story. 
What  were  you  about  to  say?" 

"  Indeed,  I  don't  know  what  I  might  have  said ;  perhaps  it 
was,  that  this  splitting  of  hairs  is  based  upon  the  love  of  power, 
which  lies  deep  in  the  human  heart ;  and  the  more  arbitrary  the 
distinction,  the  more  certain  is  the  evidence  of  conformity  to  the 
governing  will.  If  you  please,  I  will  go  on  with  my  story." 


CHANGE  ALLEY.  117 

"  I  beg  you  will ;  and  I  will  promise  not  again  to  interrupt  your 
narrative." 

"  With  the  knowledge  of  these  facts  I  have  mentioned,  I  could 
not  refrain  to  express  my  fears  of  being  myself  black-balled, 
when  my  assiduous  friends  told  me,  that  they  had  taken  the  li 
berty  of  sounding  the  leading  members  of  the  Honorable  Board, 
who  had,  as  they  assured  me,  responded  to  the  suggestion  with 
the  greatest  cordiality  and  kindness ;  so  my  wish  to  double  my 
money  getting  the  better  of  my  fears,  I  consented  to  be  proposed 
the  next  day. 

"  About  noon  of  that  day,  one  of  my  friends  called  upon  me, 
to  show  me  Change-Alley,  which  was  destined  to  be  the  theatre 
of  my  operations  as  a  stock-broker.  As  we  walked  down  the 
street,  I  saw  on  every  side  splendid  buildings,  all  of  which  bore 
the  signs  of  banks  and  brokers'-offices,  and  gave  evidence  of  its 
being  the  centre  of  the  monetary  world.  While  I  was  thus  lei 
surely  gazing  at  the  buildings  on  both  sides  of  the  street,  I  was 
startled  by  the  sight  of  a  sign,  painted  to  the  life,  of  a  pelican 
in  the  act  of  swallowing  a  golden  Jish,  the  tip  of  whose  tail  was 
only  to  be  seen  ;*  the  thought  was  instantly  presented  to  my  mind, 
that  this  was  ominous  of  the  fate  of  those  who  adventured  into 
*  the  street.'  Seeing  me  pause  before  it,  and  doubtless  reading 
my  misgivings  in  my  countenance,  my  friend  begged  me  to  ob 
serve,  '  that  the  pelican  was  not  swallowing  a  pelican,  but  a  fish, 
and  that  the  art  and  mystery  of  the  trade  consisted  in  bringing 
into  such  critical  conjunctures,  the  golden  fish  which  came  in 
schools  into  that  narrow  inlet,  and  which  fed  the  fat  pelicans  who, 
as  in  the  picture  before  me,  knew  how  and  where  to  dispose  of 
their  prey.'  This  happy  turn  not  only  amused  me,  but  entirely 
dispelled  all  my  forebodings. 

"  While  we  were  standing,  conversing  about  this  picture,  a 
crowd  of  well-dressed  gentlemen  issued  out  of  a  great  building, 
in  the  merriest  mood,  and  my  especial  friend  seeing  me,  ran  over, 
and  shaking  me  by  the  hand,  congratulated  me  on  my  good 
fortune.  They  told  me  '  I  had  been  unanimously  elected  ;  that 
though  there  were  upwards  of  two  hundred  balls  cast,  not  a  black 
ball  was  among  them  all ;  a  piece  of  good  fortune  never  known 
but  once  before  since  the  board  was  organized,  when  one  of  the 
most  honest  and  true  of  all  honest  men,  who  had  been  compelled 
to  withdraw  from  the  Board,  in  consequence  of  great  losses  he 
had  met  with  from  a  desolating  fire,  which  had  spread  ruin  in  that 
section  of  the  city  upon  hundreds  of  the  first  houses,  had  been, 

*  This  most  significant  sign  has  been  removed  since  the  publication  of  this 
chapter,  in  the  Knickerbocker  for  August,  184G. 


118  PETER  SCHLEMIHL. 

unsought  by  himself,  unanimously  re-elected  into  the  Board ;  an 
expression  of  his  high  standing,  and  of  their  confidence  and  re 
spect,  as  unexpected  as  it  was  gratifying.' 

"All  I  can  say  of  the  matter  is  this,  that  if  he  should  hereafter 
be  *  done  BROWN,'  as  I  have  been,  he  has  little  reason  to  rejoice 
in  the  distinction  so  conferred. 

•"  My  operations  commenced  very  quietly,  and  these  good 
friends  of  mine  found  me  a  plenty  of  golden  fish,  whom,  like  the 
pelican  on  the  sign,  I  had  no  difficulty  in  swallowing ;  and  in  a 
short  time  I  acquired,  to  use  a  familiar  phrase,  *  the  tricks  of  the 
trade,'  and  by  and  by  distinguished  myself  for  some  bold  and  suc 
cessful  operations.  The  fame  of  my  wealth  soon  gained  for  me 
that  consideration  which  money  always  commands,  especially  in 
Change-Alley.  I  had  my  '  hammerers'  to  knock  down  a  stock,  or 
my  *  bulls'  to  cry  it  up,  as  by  turns  it  suited  my  purpose ;  and 
many  a  *  fat  goose'  was  transformed  into  a  '  lame  duck'  after  pass 
ing  through  my  magical  manipulations.  This  was  all  very  well 
for  a  time  ;  but  growing  weary  of  these  small  matters,  I  ventured 
upon  regulating  the  course  of  exchange.  Now  this  was  trenching 
upon  the  business  of  certain  capitalists,  and  soon  I  found  myself 
the  '  observed  of  all  observers,'  and  the  courtesy,  and  smiles, 
and  homage  paid  to  me,  were  only  equalled  by  that  which  awaited 
on  the  celebrated  '  Old  Nich.,'  whenever  he  came  into  Change- 
Alley,  as  he  frequently  did  on  visits  from  his  Great  Bank,  over 
which  he  presided  with  the  sway  of  an  autocrat. 

"  It  was  truly  amusing  to  see  the  aspect  which  some  men  wore, 
when  we  both  met  on  the  same  pavement.  The  monetary  world 
no  more  than  the  physical  world,  will  bear  two  suns  at  the  same 
time.  As  a  matter  of  necessity,  therefore,  we  were  understood 
to  be  great  rivals  in  all  money  affairs,  and  my  compeers  were 
somewhat  at  a  loss  how  to  conduct  themselves,  when  we  stood 
on  opposite  sides  of  the  street.  It  was  hard  for  them  so  to  shape 
their  movements  as  to  stand  well  with  us  both,  and  it  was  only 
such  men  as  Van  Zandt,  and  a  few  others  equally  dexterous, 
who  could  skip  from  side  to  side,  and  cry  *  Good  Lord !'  and 
*  Good  Devil !'  in  the  same  breath.  It  furnished  us  food  for  mirth, 
when  *  Old  Nich.,  and  myself  met  at  night,  as  we  were  in  the  habit 
of  doing,  at  the  houses  of  some  favorite  and  fair  friends  of  his, 
with  whom  we  supped,  and  amused  ourselves  by  talking  over 
the  incidents  of  the  day,  and  repeating  the  dreadfully  severe  say 
ings  which  had  been  whispered  to  each  other  by  the  same  set, 
which,  if  they  did  not  convince  us  that  we  were  two  of  the  most 
unscrupulous  sharpers,  satisfied  us  that  they  were  the  paragons 
of  toadyism. 

"  These  were  the  days  of  sunshine  in  the  moneyed  world  of  the 


ORIGIN  OF  THE  WAR  OF  1812.  119 

Great  Republic.  In  an  evil  day  there  came  on  a  contest  as  to  which 
city  should  be  the  centre  of  banking  operations  of  the  country. 
The  aristocracy  of  Babylon  could  not  brook  the  rule  of  '  Old 
Nich.' ;  they  determined  that  the  central  power  should  be  removed 
from  Chestnut-street  to  Change-Alley.  And  the  stupid  obstinacy 
of  a  pig  had  secured  to  them  what,  but  for  his  aid,  would  have 
been  unattainable." 

"A  pig!  what  sort  of  a  pig?"  exclaimed  Mrs.  Smith. 

"A  very  fine,  fat,  pampered  pig,  on  four  feet,  with  his  tail  done 
up  as  nicely  as  any  lady's  hair  could  be  curled,"  replied  the  Gen 
tleman  in  Black. 

"You  do  not  mean  what  you  say,  I  am  sure,"  replied  Mrs. 
Smith,  surprised  at  the  unchanging  gravity  of  the  Gentleman  in 
Black. 

"  I  certainly  do ;  I  can  demonstrate  this  to  you  beyond  all 
manner  of  question  ;  that  but  for  the  pig  in  question,  the  moneyed 
relations  of  this  country  would  hlive  remained  unchanged,  and 
that  the  marble  palace  in  which  '  Old  Nich.'  held  his  uncon 
trollable  sway,  instead  of  being  what  it  now  is,  a  mere  office  for 
the  receipt  of  customs,  would  still  have  remained  the  throne  of 
the  moneyed  men  of  the  country." 

"  You  are  speaking  enigmas,  which  I  fear  no  (Edipus  can 
solve,"  replied  Mrs.  Smith.  "  Won't  you  be  pleased  to  let  me 
into  the  secret  ?" 

"  With  all  pleasure,  if  it  will  not  weary  yon  to  listen  to  it." 

"  You  need  not  fear  anything  but  failing  to  make  good  your 
assertions." 

"  That  I  have  no  fear  of.  Then,  to  begin  at  the  beginning. 
Had  the  administration  of  the  republic  been  continued  in  the 
hands  of  the  venerable  son  of  Braintree,  it  cannot,  in  my  opinion, 
be  questioned  that  the  charter  of  the  Great  Bank  would  have 
been  extended,  and  its  seat  perpetuated  in  Chestnut-street;  that 
he  failed  in  his  re-election  I  shall  now  trace  to  the  pig  in  ques 
tion  ;  and  you  will  see  how  nicely  adjusted  are  the  affairs  of  this 
great  world,  and  on  what  slender  pivots  the  destinies  of  a  nation 
turn.  Had  a  certain  gentleman  in  the  city  of  Providentio  never 
been  possessed  of  this  obstinate  pig,  or  had  he  kept  him  in  a  bet 
ter  built  stye,  *  the  Hero  of  two  wars'  would  have  only  been 
distinguished  as  a  famous  fighter  of  men  and  Indians,  and  gone 
to  the  grave  in  the  humble  obscurity  of  a  western  farmer ;  but 
for  this  pig,  he  would  never  have  been  elevated  to  the  elective 
throne  of  Babylonia;  and  all  the  consequences  resulting  from  his 
election  would  have  been  saved  to  the  world." 

"  My  dear  sir,  are  you  serious  ?"  inquired  Mrs.  Smith,  who 


120  PETER  SCHLEMIHL. 

seemed  more  and  more  perplexed  at  the  grave  and  severe  tone  of 
the  Gentleman  in  Black. 

"  Never  more  truly  so  in  my  life  ;  but  for  that  event  I  should 
not  now  be  in  Babylon" 

"  May  I  again  beg  you  will  explain  what  seems  to  me  alto 
gether  inexplicable,"  replied  Mrs.  Smith,  with  some  slight  ex 
pression  of  impatience,  as  if  teased  by  his  delay. 

The  Gentleman  in  Black  proceeded  in  his  usual  calm  and 
quiet  tone  to  say  : 

"It  is  common  for  historians  to  spend  no  little  time  in  tracing 
to  their  causes  important  events  which  change  the  current  of  a 
nation's  history,  and  in  doing  so,  from  ignorance  or  inadvertence, 
they  overlook  incidents  seemingly  so  trivial  as  to  be  utterly  un 
worthy  of  the  task  they  have  assumed ;  and  though  I  do  not  un 
dertake  to  state  all  the  causes  which  had  their  separate  influence 
in  bringing  about  the  conjuncture  of  affairs  which  made  it  pos 
sible  for  a  pig  to  play  so  prominent  a  part,  yet  I  feel  certain  of 
tracing  to  him  the  catastrophe. 

"  There  were  two  neighbors,  both  of  the  old  Federal  school  of 
politics,  who  had  lived  for  many  years  in  the  utmost  harmony  in 
the  city  of  Providentio  ;  one  of  whom  was  the  owner  of  the  pig, 
and  the  other  possessed  a  fine  garden,  in  the  cultivation  of  which 
he  took  especial  pains.  One  fine  spring  morning  the  pig,  wak 
ing  hungry  from  a  sound  sleep,  set  up  a  squeal  which  expressed 
in  the  clearest  manner,  his  impatience  for  his  breakfast,  but  as 
the  family  were  at  that  time  busy,  and  occupied  with  making  their 
own  meal,  he  was  left  to  wait;  becoming  restless,  and  as  a  law 
yer  would  express  it,  if  he  were  drafting  a  bill  of  indictment, 
*  being  set  on  end  by  the  devil,'  regardless  and  reckless  of  all  con 
sequences,  he  clambered  over  the  imperfectly-constructed  stye, 
and  set  out  in  quest  of  what  he  could  find  '  on  his  own  hook.' 
Now  he  had  done  this  frequently  before,  and  had  amused  him 
self  in  perambulating  over  the  nicely-made  beds  in  the  neighbor's 
garden,  into  which  he  had  found  no  difficulty  of  access  from  the 
condition  of  the  fence.  There  had  been  many  friendly  remon 
strances  as  to  this  pig's  familiar  habits,  and  the  one  neighbor  had 
urged  the  building  of  a  new  stye,  and  the  other  kindly  replied 
that  his  fence  was  out  of  repair.  So  matters  stood ;  when  the 
proprietor  of  the  garden  discovered  the  pig  in  the  very  act  of 
rooting  up  and  eating  some  choice  bulbous  roots,  which  were 
very  valuable,  and  had  been  procured  at  great  expense.  This 
was  '  the  last  feather  which  broke  the  camel's  back  ;'  transported 
with  passion,  he  put  a  pitchfork,  he  chanced  to  find  at  hand,  into 
the  sleek  and  tender  sides  of  the  pig,  and  threw  him  yelling  into 
his  neighbor's  yard.  His  cries,  though  not  the  most  musical, 


121 

were  in  so  moving  a  tone,  that  the  pig-proprietor  and  his  family 
were  disturbed  at  their  breakfast  table,  and  came  out  in  breathless 
haste  to  witness  the  last  flourish  of  their  pig's-tail,  to  hear  his  last 
squeal  and  to  see  him  die.  That,  my  dear  madam,  was  the  be 
ginning  of  that  bloodshed  which  was  continued  by  the  best  blood 
of  the  great  republic. 

"  In  consequence  of  this  quarrel,  at  the  coming  election  then 
about  to  take  place,  the  proprietor  of  the  pig  voted  against  his 
neighbor,  and  his  vote  elected  a  democrat  to  the  general  assembly 
of  that  state.  At  the  election  of  a  senator  to  the  Great  Council 
of  the  Senate  of  the  nation,  a  man  devoted  to  the  then  adminis 
tration  of  affairs,  was  elected  by  one  vote  ;  and,  in  the  year  1812, 
an  act  declaring  war  passed  the  Senate  by  one  vote  ;  the  vote  of 
the  senator  elected  by  the  vote  of  the  representative,  who  was 
elected  by  the  owner  of  the  pig  in  question.  Now  have  I  not 
shown  the  chain  of  causes  thus  far?" 

"  Yes,  you  have ;  but  what  has  all  this  to  do  with  the  charter 
of  the  Great  Bank  ?" 

"  Oh,  that  is  readily  seen.  The  war  which  ensued  terminated 
with  a  glorious  victory,  which  immortalized  the  '  Hero  of  two 
wars ;'  he  was  made  President  by  the  leaders  of  the  great  peo 
ple's  party,  who  found  no  other  way  of  defeating  the  election  of 
the  son  of  Braintree,  believing  that  when  he  was  elected  by 
their  exertions  and  influence,  he  would  suffer  himself  to  be  guided 
by  their  councils.  But  men  who  set  a  ball  in  motion  are  not 
always  able  to  resist  when  in  motion,  that  which  a  single  arm 
could  have  kept  at  rest.  Unfortunately  for  me,  and  thousands  of 
others,  the  first  act  of  resistance  to  the  indomitable  will  of  the 
*  Old  Hero'  came  from  my  worthy  compeer  and  associate  '  Old 
Nich.'  This  was  his  resistance  to  the  appointment  of  an  officer 
in  one  of  his  branch  banks;  and  if,  instead  of  trying  the  strength 
of  their  several  powers,  *  Old  Nich.'  had  submitted  to  this  exer 
cise  of  power,  or  made  some  quiet  conciliatory  explanations  to 
the  '  Old  Hero,'  who,  in  all  probability,  had  ignorantly  exceeded 
his  administrative  powers,  all  would  have  been  well.  But  the 
habit  of  uncontrolled  sway  had  been  fostered  in  the  heart  of  '  Old 
Nich.'  by  the  submissive  acts  of  brokers  and  bankers,  whom  he 
had  taught  to  perform  the  prescribed  kow-tow,  when  admitted 
into  his  presence,  with  an  alacrity  and  skill  only  to  be  excelled 
by  the  courtiers  of  the  Chinese  empire.  The  hostility  which 
grew  out  of  this  conflict  in  the  exercise  of  appointing  powers  was 
fanned  and  fostered  by  the  Jonathans  and  the  Goodyers,  and 
their  cliques  in  this  city,  who  saw  in  this  reason  for  hope  that  if 
the  charter  of  the  bank  should  be  rejected,  a  new  bank,  which 
they  deemed  indispensable,  would  be  chartered,  and  which  they 


122  PETER  SCHLEMIHL. 

felt  certain  would  have  its  centre  in  Babylon.  But  it  is  easier  to 
pull  down  than  to  build  up  ;  and  a  power  arose,  unlocked  for  by 
them,  greater  than  their  own.  The  iron  will  of  the  '  Old  Hero' 
was  directed  by  this  power  behind  the  throne  with  a  despotism 
they  could  not  resist.  The  consequence  was,  a  revulsion,  which 
brought  ruin  to  the  homes  and  firesides  of  those  whose  whole 
scope  of  policy  was  limited  to  the  increase  of  their  own  fortunes, 
and  the  up-building  of  their  own  city. 

"  The  outcry  against  the  course  of  policy  which  struck  at  all 
chartered  banking  associations,  and  whose  war-cry  was  '  perish 
credit,  perish  commerce,'  perish  everything  that  stands  in  the 
way  of  'the  will  of  the  democracy,'  a  policy  which  for  a  time 
threatened  to  bring  every  chartered  corporation  into  jeopardy,  at 
length  came  from  those  who  had  made  him  the  god  of  the  people's 
idolatry. 

"  Among  these  was  a  worthy  citizen  of  this  city,  who  had  car 
ried  his  devotion  so  far  as  to  have  the  old  hero's  bust  beautifully 
chiselled  in  purest  marble,  and  it  was  placed  over  his  mantel-piece 
as  its  chief  ornament.  Here  it  was  caressed,  from  time  to  time, 
by  many  pleasant  love-pats,  as  one  blow  after  another  of  the  mer 
ciless  policy  of  the  Old  Hero's,  struck  down  the  heads  of  the 
moneyed  hydra,  whose  ruin  was  so  earnestly  desired ;  but  when 
the  same  club  reached  other  moneyed  interests,  and  stock  after 
stock  declined,  bank  after  bank  gave  way,  and  when  ruin  reached 
the  worthy  partisan,  from  the  very  idol  of  his  creation  and  wor 
ship,  with  a  feeling  not  unlike  the  poor  Africans  who  flog  their 
gods  when  their  wishes  are  not  complied  with,  coming  home  to 
his  dinner,  for  which,  alas  !  he  had  no  appetite,  and  seeing  this 
*  Architect  of  Ruin'  sitting  with  his  characteristic  composure,  all 
unconcerned  amid  the  carnage  he  was  making  of  the  fortunes  of 
his  followers,  as  well  as  of  his  enemies,  transported  with  rage, 
our  citizen  seized  upon  the  bust  and  cast  it  down  into  an  oblivion 
of  shame  and  everlasting  contempt;  but  Accident  or  Destiny, 
which  ever  had  made  him  great,  took  care  of  his  image.  Through 
the  zealous  labors  of  a  society  who  have  done  much  to  enrich 
the  country  by  their  antiquarian  researches,  the  bust  of  the  hero 
was  recovered,  and  sold  by  them,  heedless  of  the  treasure,  with 
a  heap  of  rubbish.  The  purchaser,  who  told  me  the  anecdote, 
kept  his  good  fortune  to  himself,  and  the  Old  Hero  was  brought 
to  light  transformed  into  an  old  Roman.  The  alkalies  of  earth 
have  given  the  Old  Hero's  face  quite  an  ancient  aspect,  and  there 
remained  little  else  than  the  general  contour  of  his  face  and  bust, 
and  the  inscription,  which  had  once  been  *  The  Old  Roman,'  had 
become  all  but  defaced.  The  bust,  well  washed,  was  put  into 
the  hands  of  a  dealer  in  pictures  of  the  '  old  masters,'  which  are 


GENTLEMAN  IN  BLACK  TURNS  BROKER.  123 

annually  imported  into  this  market  and  sold  at  prices  miraculously 
low.  It  soon  attracted  the  attention  of  the  pseudo  iconographists 
of  the  city,  who  after  mature  examination  determined  it  to  be  the 
bust  of  Romulus,  and  this  question  so  decided,  the  bust  was  in 
stantly  purchased  at  a  great  price  by  an  admirer  of  the  antique, 
and  now  holds  a  conspicuous  place  in  his  cabinet,  where  he  is 
venerated  still,  as  the  oldest  if  not  the  '  noblest  Roman  of  them 
all: 

"  Pardon  this  digression,  my  dear  madam,  from  my  own  story, 
which  I  fear  has  already  become  to  you  wearisome  i  as  the  twice- 
told-tale  vexing  the  dull  ear  of  a  drowsy  man.' ' 

"  By  no  means  !"  replied  Mrs.  Smith,  with  great  vivacity.  "  I 
am  at  a  loss  to  know  how  this  revulsion  in  the  monetary  world 
has  connected  itself  with  you,  and  compelled  you  to  assume  so 
hopeless  a  task  as  the  finding  of  Peter  Schlemihl." 

"  Not  so  hopeless  as  you  may  at  first  be  led  to  think  it ;  but 
all  this  by  and  by,"  replied  the  Gentleman  in  Black,  who  re 
sumed  his  narrative  by  saying  : 

"  After  I  had  fairly  established  myself  in  Change  Alley,  and  in 
doing  so,  had  necessarily  become  connected  very  largely  with  the 
stock  exchange,  to  which  I  exclusively  confined  my  attention, 
though  my  kind  friends  were  exceedingly  anxious  that  I  should 
share  with  them  in  their  speculations  in  canals  and  stocks  of  va 
rious  kinds,  but  my  grasp  of  mind  I  found  was  too  limited  to 
keep  sight  of  so  many  dissimilar  speculations,  and  as  I  was  suc 
ceeding  to  the  utmost  of  my  wishes,  I  declined  their  friendly 
offers,  and.  as  they  found  a  plenty  ready  to  unite  with  them,  I 
was  after  a  while  left  by  them  to  quietly  manage  my  business  in 
my  own  way. 

"  Unhappily,  I  was  recalled  by  urgent  business  connected  with 
my  Eastern  estates  ;  a  whole  village  had  gone  over  to  the  Aboli 
tionists,  and  my  agents  feared  a  general  breaking  up  of  all  the 
ties  in  which  they  had  been  held  to  servitude ;  and  having  the 
utmost  confidence  in  my  friends,  who  had  won  upon  my  regards 
by  their  hospitality  and  unceasing  friendship,  I  thought  it  would 
be  safe  for  me  to  place  my  moneyed  securities  in  their  hands  to 
wind  up." 

"  But  was  it  not  a  great  trust  to  bestow  ?  Two  or  three  mil 
lions  of  dollars  is  too  large  a  sum  to  be  secured  in  the  usual  way, 
was  it  not?"  inquired  Mrs.  Smith. 

"  It  was  ;  but  what  better  could  I  do  ?  And  besides,  I  had 
every  reason  to  rely  on  these  good  friends,  as  I  deemed  them  to- 
be  ;  and  many  little  incidents  calculated  to  win  upon  my  unsus 
pecting  confidence  had  arisen  which  had  their  due  weight  with 
me  ;  for  example  :  one  of  them,  a  man  of  great  amenity  of  man- 


124  PETER  SCHLEMIHL. 

ners,  hearing  accidentally  from  me  in  conversation  that  my  people 
were  destitute  of  the  'stated  preaching  of  the  gospel,'  was  ex 
tremely  desirous  of  procuring  the  establishment  of  a  mission 
among  them  ;  indeed,  I  found  it  very  difficult  to  satisfy  him  that 
I  thought  they  could  get  on  without  one.  Another  proposed 
some  admirable  plans  *  for  the  colonization  and  gradual  emanci 
pation  of  my  slaves ;'  and  another  swore  *  I  should  go  into  a 
grand  speculation  he  had  in  view  for  the  purchase  of  coal  lands 
which  would  never  be  exhausted  while  the  world  should  stand.' 
I  mention  these  among  the  many  like  manifestations  of  their  ac 
tive  friendship  ;  and  receiving  fresh  dispatches  begging  me  to 
return  at  once  and  at  all  hazards,  I  called  my  friends  together  and 
gave  into  their  hands  all  my  books,  bonds,  and  bills,  for  which 
they  jointly  and  severally  receipted  to  me;  and  pledging  them 
selves  to  obey  my  instructions,  which  were  explicit,  to  invest  my 
moneys  as  they  fell  due  in  such  undoubted  stocks  as  they  thought 
safest  and  best. 

"  Having  done  this,  they  gave  me  a  magnificent  entertainment, 
and  the  next  day  most  of  them  went  down  as  far  as  the  Narrows, 
where  they  took  leave  of  me  with  many  earnest  entreaties  to  take 
good  care  of  myself,  to  which  I  responded  very  heartily,  begging 
them  not  to  forget  me  or  my  affairs. 

"  I  was  absent  four  years,  and  never  so  much  as  received  a 
single  stroke  of  a  pen  from  any  one  of  them.  I  felt  some  sur 
prise  at  this,  and  on  arriving  in  London,  I  was  thunderstruck  at 
hearing  that  my  friend  '  Old  Nich.'  had  deserted  his  palace ;  that 
there  had  been  a  general  suspension  of  specie  payments  in  this 
country,  and  that  a  wide-spread  bankruptcy  had  gone  over  the 
length  and  the  breadth  of  the  land.  As  you  may  well  imagine, 
I  felt  there  was  no  time  to  lose  in  coming  to  this  country,  and  to 
see  how  far  my  own  funds  were  jeoparded  by  this  revulsion  of 
the  affairs  of  Babylonia. 

"  On  my  arrival  I  took  my  old  rooms,  and  the  same  evening 
sent  my  cards  to  each  of  my  friends,  expecting  they  would  at 
once  come  to  see  me.  I  sat  up  quite  late,  but  not  one  of  them 
called.  This  was  rather  ominous,  I  thought.  The  next  day  I 
remained  at  home  till  past  twelve,  and  no  one  calling,  I  took  a 
walk  down  Change  Alley.  I  met  the  members  of  the  Honorable 
Fraternity  as  busy  as  ever;  nearly  all  had  failed,  but  as  this  was 
a  general  calamity,  no  one  seemed  to  feel  the  pressure  to  be 
pinching  him  harder  than  his  neighbor ;  and  as  *  misery  loves 
company,'  they  seemed  well  content.  *  Times,'  they  said,  'were 
mending  rapidly;'  'hoped  I  had  comeback  to  "the  street;"  they 
wanted  some  one  who  had  plenty  of  money  to  regulate  matters  ;' 
4 1  was  the  very  person  they  were  all  looking  for ;'  and  they 


A  DINNER  PARTY.  125 

really  seemed  to  express  their  honest  sentiments,  and  I  believe 
they  did  ;  but  when  I  told  them  all  my  means  were  in  the  hands 
of  my  friends  in  Change  Alley,  they  looked  surprised  ;  some 
thrust  their  tongues  into  one  side  of  their  cheeks,  others  whistled 
a  little,  but  the  most  of  them  said,  '  Come  and  see  me  ;  I  am  just 
now  very  busy ;'  and  on  they  went. 

"  You  may  guess  I  had  now  very  strong  convictions  that  my 
affairs  were  in  what  they  technically  term  '  weak  hands ;'  by 
which  is  understood  hands  so  strong  that  there's  no  getting  back 
what  you  have  given  them  to  hold.  After  looking  into  one  old 
haunt  and  another,  I  stumbled  upon  one  of  my  trustees ;  he  cer 
tainly  put  the  best  face  upon  the  matter,  and  said  he  had  been 
seeking  me  ;  that  he  had  a  little  party  of  our  old  set,  and  as  they 
all  wished  to  see  me,  he  had  on  receiving  my  card  sent  out  his 
invitations  to  meet  me  at  his  house  at  dinner  at  six  precisely. 
His  engagements,  like  all  the  others,  were  very  pressing,  and 
shaking  me  by  the  hand,  he  shook  me  off;  and  finding  myself 
somewhat  less  important  in  '  the  street'  than  I  once  was,  I  re 
turned  to  my  hotel  to  prepare  myself  for  the  *  entertainment'  I 
had  every  reason  to  believe  had  been  prepared  for  me  a  long  time 
before  my  arrival. 

"  At  six  precisely  I  entered  the  mansion  of  my  trusty  trustee. 
The  house  was  unchanged  ;  the  same  servants,  the  same  gorgeous 
furniture,  and  the  same  finely-dressed  ladies,  somewhat  fuller  and 
broader  to  be  sure  than  when  I  left  them,  but  this  was  doubtless 
owing  to  their  style  of  dress,  and  the  same  circle  of  active  and 
enterprising  friends;  all  looking  finely,  a  little  wider  over  the 
waistband  and  somewhat  care-worn  about  the  eyes ;  but  their 
laugh  was  hearty,  while  they  assured  me  '  they  were  ruined  past 
all  redemption;'  'burst  up;'  'not  a  figment  left;'  all  owing  to 
the  malignant  influences  of  that  *  Sheeted  Ghost,'  and  of  Oliver 
Dane,  by  whom  the  deposits  were  removed  from  the  banks, 
without  letting  them  know  of  the  coming  storm  in  time  to  take 
in  sail,  or  throw  overboard  some  of  the  heavy  stocks ;  and  when 
the  whirlwind  took  them  aback,  they  went  down  all  sails  stand 
ing  ;  and  there  they  were,  escaped  with  their  lives  and  wives, 
and  that  was  all." 

"  Was  there  ever  such  a  sad  and  summary  method  of  account 
ing  for  two  or  three  millions  of  the  best  bills  and  stocks  of  the 
country  ! 

"  Dinner  was  announced,  and  I  thought  if  I  had  lost  all  my 
money  I  had  better  not  let  my  appetite  go  with  it;  and  so  I  said 
no  more  about  money  matters,  and  you  would  have  never  guessed 
that  we  were  all  ruined  men  and  women,  or  that  the  young  ladies 
had  shared  in  the  common  disasters  of  their  families.  Our  con- 


126  PETER  SCHLEMIHL. 

versation  as  usual  was  buoyant  and  spirited;  weddings  and  balls, 
and  operas  and  diamonds,  all  shone  and  sparkled  in  unison  with 
the  rich  wines  we  drank  like  water ;  and  I  thought  really,  from 
the  excessive  gayety  of  the  young  ladies  especially,  that  being 
ruined  was  one  of  the  most  delightful  things  in  the  world ;  and 
though  I  endeavored  to  take  the  same  cheerful  view  of  matters, 
yet  whenever  the  recollection  of  my  good  bills  and  stocks  would 
recur,  it  did  not  seem  possible  I  could  think  of  being  ruined  with 
the  same  complacency  with  which  it  was  regarded  by  these  giddy 
daughters  of  my  friends. 

"  The  next  day  they  said  they  would  be  prepared  to  render  me 
an  account  of  their  stewardship  ;  and  one  of  them  candidly  con 
fessed  it  was  indeed  '  a  most  beggarly  account  of  an  empty  ex 
chequer,  but  it  should  be  as  honest  as  daylight;'  and  with  this 
assurance  I  took  my  leave. 

"  About  twelve  o'clock  they  came  with  their  papers  all  nicely 
folded  and  labelled,  with  large  abstracts  beautifully  prepared,  and 
ruled  with  the  utmost  of  clerical  skill  and  beauty.  What  could 
I  expect  more  ?  I  had  witnessed,  during  my  career  in  Ohange 
Alley,  many  very  decided  explosions,  and  I  had  looked  on  with 
calmness,  and  sometimes  with  pleasure,  as  after  some  deep  plot 
ting  and  counter-plotting  I  had  witnessed  '  the  sport  of  seeing  the 
engineer  hoised  with  his  own  petard  ;'  but  now  that  I  found  my 
self  in  the  air,  making  the  same  species  of  gyrations,  I  did  not 
find  the  fun  so  exceedingly  attractive  as  it  had  appeared  to  me 
when  but  a  looker-on  at  the  misfortunes  of  others.  Dean  Swift 
tells  us  '  he  never  knew  a  man  who  could  not  bear  the  misfor 
tunes  of  other  people  with  Christian  resignation ;'  but  to  bear 
our  own  is  a  stern  task  of  soul. 

"  I  will  not  detain  you  with  all  these  and  other  thoughts  which 
rose  in  my  mind  as  I  saw  in  the  abstracts  of  assets,  ready  to  be 
turned  over  to  me  in  full  discharge  of  all  my  claims,  certificates 
of  state  stock  purchased  at  an  advance  of  from  ten  to  twenty-five 
per  cent.,  now  merely  nominal  at  ten  and  fifteen  dollars  the  share; 
shares  of  stocks  in  rail-roads,  for  which  not  a  rail  had  as  yet  been 
laid  down  ;  in  canals  not  yet  dug  ;  a  variety  of  stocks,  the  merest 
creations  of  fancy  and  fraud:  heavy  loans  on  coal  lands  ;  swamps 
lying  around  and  about  Babylon  ;  cities  of  the  west,  drawn  on 
beautifully-colored  maps,  showing  where  the  public  buildings  and 
squares  were  to  be,  but  the  sites  of  which  remained  to  be  cleared 
of  their  primeval  forests  ;  pine  lands  in  Eastern  townships,  which 
they  told  me  had  proved  to  be  a  congregation  of  swamps  and 
stones — such  were  the  results  of  their  management,  all  of  which 
they  said  would  have  been  in  good  credit  but  for  the  removal  of 
the  deposits.  That  I  had  some  reason  to  complain  of  the  re- 


FINAL  SETTLEMENT  WITH  THE  FINANCIERS.  127 

moval  of  the  deposits  they  all  conceded,  but  comforted  me  by 
saying  that  'everybody  was  ruined;  not  a  good  house  left — all 
gone  to  the  devil !'  I  had  good  reason  to  guess  that  this  last 
statement  was  not  true,  though  I  thought  it  not  unlikely  it  might 
become  so. 

"  To  make  an  end  of  my  long  story,  I  was  swallowed  up  by 
my  pelican  friends ;  and  though  a  fish  of  somewhat  larger  size 
than  usual,  they  had  found  no  difficulty  in  making  me  go  down, 
leaving  as  the  undigested  tail  these  miserable  certificates  of  stock, 
the  remnant  of  all  my  moneys  placed  in  their  custody.  To  me 
these  stocks  were  utterly  worthless,  and  I  at  once  made  them  an 
offer  to  draw  drafts  on  them  at  a  long  date,  payable  with  interest, 
which  they  cheerfully  accepted  ;  and  here  they  are,"  said  the 
Gentleman  in  Black,  with  a  sneering  smile  of  satisfaction,  as  he 
pulled  out  of  his  pocket  a  bundle  of  papers,  carefully  done  up 
and  labelled. 

"  And  are  you  not  fearful  of  their  defrauding  you  by  taking  the 
benefit  of  some  general  act  of  bankruptcy  ?'  inquired  Mrs.  Smith, 
in  tones  of  tender  sympathy  for  the  misfortunes  of  her  guest. 

'*  Oh  no,  my  dear  madam,"  replied  the  Gentleman  in  Black, 
in  a  tone  of  the  utmost  confidence ;  "  they  will  doubtless  avail 
themselves  of  all  manner  of  '  stay-laws,'  but  they  must  come  to 
it  at  last ;  these  stay-laws  will  soon  be  exhausted,  and  if  pay 
ment  be  not  then  made,  I  have  a  summary  process,  known  in 
law  as  the  writ '  ca.  sa.,'  which  empowers  me  to  take  the  body  ; 
and  you  may  rely  upon  it,  my  dear  madam,  there's  no  dodging! 
They  will  find  no  Portia  who  can,  by  a  quibble  of  the  law,  save 
them  from  their  bonds — the  money  or  the  body  !  As  there  are 
no  Zaccheuses  among  them,  that  they  never  will  repay  ;  so  I  have 
booked  them  as  my  own  years  ago  !" 


Peter,  in  his  letter  to  his  friends,  states,  "  There  are  some  scenes  and  sub 
jects,  which,  had  they  been  written  out,  the  outline  as  it  lay  in  my  mind, 
would  have  been  filled  up."  These  consist  of  colloquys  with  Mrs.  Smith, 
and  the  adventures  of  the  Gentleman  in  Black,  after  leaving  Babylon  the 
Less.  The  Gentleman  in  Black  returns  to  Europe,  and  recruits  his  funds  by 
the  hiring  of  the  genuine  "  coat  of  Christ,"  on  shares,  to  the  Archbishop  of 
Treves,  the  Bishop  to  be  the  exhibitor,  while  the  Gentleman  in  Black  went 
through  Germany  to  urge  the  peasantry  to  visit  the  relic. 


138  PETER  SCHLEMIHL. 


CHAPTER  VIII. 

The  Gentleman  in  Black's  spectacles;  their  uses — He  commences  the  narra 
tive  of  his  pursuit  of  Peter,  who  takes  passage  on  board  a  merchant  ship 
with  but  one  passenger,  a  Swedenborgian  priest — The  priest  asks  a  seat 
and  plate  at  the  table  for  the  Apostle  Peter — Peter  takes  the  seat  of  the 
Apostle — Colloquy  as  to  a  future  life — The  Captain's  opinion  of  "  Conjugial 
Love" — Contrast  between  Mahomet  and  Swedenborg — The  Captain's  re 
medy  of  hysterical  wives — The  discovery  of  the  Square  of  the  Circle  by 
the  Captain — The  story  of  the  mate's  first  love — The  priest  appeals  to 
Peter  to  settle  the  vexed  questions  as  to  his  supremacy,  and  of  Apostolical 
succession — The  testimonies  of  the  Fathers  cited — Character  of  the  Popes — 
Pope  Joan — The  Captain  admits  her  claims — The  close  of  the  appeal  to 
Peter  5  his  verdict — Conspiracy  against  Peter — Test  of  Peter's  apostleship — 
Advantages  of  abstinence — Attempt  to  throw  Peter  overboard — A  storm, 
at  sea — The  loss  of  the  mate — Revenge  of  the  Captain — Peter  steps  ashore 
on  Cape  Henry. 

THE  Gentleman  in  Black  continued  by  saying,  "  After  I  had 
recruited  my  purse,  in  the  way  I  have  stated,  and  from  which  1 
assure  you  I  found  means  more  ample  than  I  needed  to  accom 
plish  the  objects  I  had  in  view,  I  began  my  search  of  Master 
Peter  Schlemihl,  who  had  roused  the  indignation  of  the  world 
against  me,  whining  all  the  while  about  the  loss  of  his  contempti 
ble  shadow,  as  if  I  should  have  made  such  a  fool's  bargain  as  to 
have  agreed  to  such  an  exchange  with  him.  And  I  assure  you 
he  has  been  most  eminently  successful;  there's  not  a  young  lady 
on  the  Continent,  who  has  not  wet  her  beautiful  embroidered 
handkerchief  with  tears  for  the  miseries  of  this  lying  rascal. 
But  let  me  ask  you,  madam,  if  I  were  to  take  my  stand  on  the 
steps  of  the  Exchange  in  Change  Alley,  and  we;e  to  offer  the 
use  of  my  purse  but  for  six  hours  to  each  of  the  gentlemen  who 
there  most  do  congregate,  in  exchange  for  their  several  shadows, 
how  many  men  with  their  shadows  do  you  guess  would  be  found 
there.  Why,  old  Godolphin  himself,  I  doubt  not,  would  be 
among  the  first  to  seize  it  and  give  it  a  good  shaking.  The 


OF  REPUTATION  ROBES.  129 

crowd  would  resemble  a  pack  of  hungry  hounds,  yelping,  biting 
and  tearing  each  other,  eagerly  waiting  the  instant  of  the  throw 
ing  down  of  a  dead  hare.  And  do  you  think  these  gentlemen, 
having  filled  their  vaults  with  gold,  would  get  the  Chamissos 
and  La  Motte  Foques  of  the  day  to  write  most  pitiable  stories, 
or  pathetic  ballads  about  their  dire  misfortunes  ?  No  !  madam, 
not  one  of  them,  but  would  rejoice  in  an  exchange  so  every  way 
to  their  benefit.  There  is  a  species  of  shadow,  or  rather  of  dress, 
madam,  which  it  would  be  well  for  these  good  people  to  take 
better  care  of  than  they  do." 

"  May  I  ask  what  sort  of  dress,  or  shadow  do  you  refer  to  ?" 

"  Their  reputations,  madam,"  replied  the  Gentleman  in  Black. 
"  With  these,"  said  he,  holding  up  to  his  eye  what  wore  the  ap 
pearance  of  a  pair  of  gold  spectacles,  "  I  have  it  in  my  power  to 
see  the  exact  condition  of  this  very  important  vesture,  and  I  as 
sure  you,  it  is  amusing  to  see  the  high  and  lofty  mien  of  many 
well  dressed,  portly  gentlemen,  and  most  graceful  and  beauti 
fully  attired  ladies,  who  sport  their  fine  forms  and  costumes  on 
the  Grand  Avenue,  of  a  bright  sunny  day,  while  their  reputation 
robes  are  all  in  ribbons,  and  flying  about  in  tatters ;  and  some 
few  are  perfectly  denuded." 

"  Do  let  me  look  through  those  glasses,"  said  Mrs.  Smith 
eagerly. 

The  Gentleman  in  Black  politely  handed  the  lady  the  spectacles, 
who  instantly  levelled  them  at  him.  He  sprung  and  caught  her 
hand,  while  he  said  laughingly,  "  Ah,  madam,  is  that  fair?"  Mrs. 
Smith  promised  that  she  would  not  use  the  glasses  against  him, 
and  so  soon  as  her  hands  were  at  liberty,  stood  up,  and  was 
about  to  direct  the  glasses  to  her  own  beautiful  person  as  it  was 
reflected  in  the  mirror.  The  Gentleman  in  Black  again  arrested 
her  hand  and  said,  "  no  !  nor  is  that  fair." 

"  Heavens  !"  exclaimed  the  lady,  "  and  have  I  too  lost  my 
reputation?" 

"  Far  from  it,  I  assure  you  'tis  in  very  admirable  preservation." 

Mrs.  Smith  handed  the  Gentleman  in  Black  the  glasses  with 
extreme  reluctance,  which  evidently  touched  his  sympathies,  and 
returning  the  spectacles  to  her  said,  in  tones  of  great  tenderness, 
"  my  dear  madam,  few  ladies  would  venture  upon  the  scrutiny 
you  so  earnestly  seek.  What  higher  evidence  can  you  have  of 
your  purity  ^nd  integrity  ?  but  you  shall  have  this  assurance 
verified  by  your  own  eyes.  Look  !  see  a  costume  which  is  as 
beautiful  as  the  form  to  which  it  adheres." 

Mrs,  Smith   smiled,  and  now,  with   some   timidity,  put  the 
glasses  to  her  eyes,  and  gazed  intensely  upon  these  transparent 
9 


130  PETER  SCHLEMIHL. 

and  delicate  reputation  robes,  which  fitted  her  form  most  per 
fectly,  and  gave  great  grace  and  beauty  to  her  figure,  and  which, 
through  the  glasses,  looked  like  a  lace  dress  worn  over  her  own 
rich  satin  evening  dress.  The  shadow  was  in  perfect  order  be 
fore,  but  on  looking  round,  she  exclaimed : — 

"  Bless  me  !  is  there  not  a  rent  in  my  dress  behind  ?" 

The  Gentleman  in  Black  told  her  it  must  have  been  an  optical 
illusion,  and  at  the  same  time,  he  gently  passed  his  hands  over 
the  folds  of  her  dress,  and  it  was  not  discernible ;  reassured,  she 
handed  the  glasses  to  the  Gentleman  in  Black,  who  laid  them 
beside  him  on  the  sofa,  and  commenced  his  story  of  his  pursuit 
of  Peter  Schlemihl,  by  saying : — 

"  I  will  now  go  on  with  my  narrative ;  money,  dear  Mrs. 
Smith,  is  the  true  lever  with  which  to  move  the  world — and  this 
I  brought  to  bear,  in  my  pursuit  of  the  invisible  and  flying  Peter; 
and  by  the  aid  of  money,  I  enlisted  every  policeman  and  petty 
magistrate  on  the  Continent,  and  in  Great  Britain,  in  my  pay, 
and  also  the  stewards  of  all  packet-ships  sailing  to  this  country. 
The  coin  Peter  disbursed  and  gave  away,  bore  my  impress, 
and  aided  me  to  track  his  path,  but  the  surest  means  of  pursuit 
was  afforded  by  his  letters  to  his  only  sister,  which  I  took  espe 
cial  pains  to  have  intercepted  or  purloined,  and  sent  to  me,  and 
here  they  are," — so  saying,  the  Gentleman  in  Black  took  from 
his  pocket  a  large  bundle  of  letters,  carefully  tied  together. 
"  From  these  I  found  he  had  determined  to  come  to  Babylonia. 
Accordingly,  I  redoubled  my  diligence  to  secure  him  on  board 
the  ship  in  which  he  might  chance  to  take  his  voyage.  How  he 
would  effect  it,  was  a  matter  of  mystery  to  me,  still  I  did  not 
doubt  he  would  make  the  attempt.  And  as  it  may  amuse  you,  I 
will  give  you  the  narrative  as  I  learn  it  from  these  letters  to  his 
sister,  and  from  the  steward,  whom  I  discovered  afterwards,  and 
who  told  me  his  part  of  the  tale.  But  shall  I  not  weary  you?  do 
you  not  need  to  retire  to  your  room  ?" 

"My  dear  sir,  I  beg  you  to  go  on  ;  I  never  was  more  wide 
awake  in  my  life  than  at  this  moment,"  replied  Mrs.  Smith. 

"  Should  you  weary  of  my  story,"  said  the  Gentleman  in 
Black,  "  I  beg  you  will  frankly  tell  me  so ;  and  with  this  assur 
ance,  it  will  give  me  pleasure  to  go  on." 

The  lady  smiled  and  bowed  her  assent. 

"Peter,  it  seems,  having  stepped  across  the  channel  at  Dover, 
made  his  way  to  Liverpool.  Here  there  were  packet-ships 
every  week  sailing  for  this  country  ;  but  as  they  were  full  of 
passengers,  he  feared  discovery.  Finding  a  merchant  ship  about 
to  sail  for  the  Monumental  City,  with  but  one  gentleman  pas- 


PETER'S  VOYAGE.  131 

senger,  Peter  went  aboard,  taking  his  chance  for  getting  across 
the  Atlantic  unperceived  by  the  captain  and  his  crew.  Soon 
after  leaving  Lands-end,  the  passenger,  a  gentleman  of  about 
forty  years  of  age,  with  a  most  amiable  and  prepossessing  ap 
pearance,  came  on  deck  where  Peter  was  standing,  and,  address 
ing  the  captain,  told  him  '  he  wished  him  to  give  orders  to  his 
steward  to  set  an  additional  plate  on  the  table,  as  he  expected  to 
have  the  pleasure  of  entertaining  the  Apostle  Peter,  whom,  he 
was  happy  to  say,  would  be  his  compagnon-du-voyage.'  The 
captain  looked  at  him  with  a  stare  of  unlimited  surprise.  The 
gentleman  bore  it  with  the  utmost  good  humor,  and,  smiling,  re 
plied  :  '  You  may  not  know,  captain,  that  I  am  one  of  the  priest 
hood  of  the  NEW  CHURCH.  My  object  in  crossing  the  ocean  is 
to  spread  the  doctrines  of  the  illustrious  and  divine  Swedenborg, 
and  I  am  assured  that  on  my  way  I  shall  be  favored  by  the  so 
ciety  of  the  great  Apostle,  for  whose  entertainment  I  wish  suit 
able  provision  to  be  made.'  The  captain,  finding  him  earnest 
and  positive,  called  the  steward  and  directed  him  to  lay  the  table 
accordingly.  When  they  sat  down  to  dinner,  the  captain  said, 
4  You  will  please,  sir,  attend  to  the  wants  of  your  guest  and  of 
yourself,  while  I  take  care  of  my  own  and  Mr.  Kemble,'  who 
was  his  first  mate.  The  captain  was  not  a  little  amused  to  see 
the  priest  ask  his  invisible  guest '  what  it  would  please  him  to 
have?'  and  addressing  his  conversation,  in  the  most  choice  and 
respectful  phrases,  to  his  invisible  guest.  The  news  of  this  new 
passenger  was  carried,  by  the  steward,  to  the  forecastle,  and  the 
crew,  curious  to  see  how  things  went  on,  left  their  kids  and  came 
aft  to  peep  down  the  grated  sky-lights,  which  was  directly  over 
the  table.  Among  the  crew,  was  an  Irishman  and  Spaniard,  both 
good  Catholics,  while  the  rest  were  all  from  the  Puritan  States. 
To  all  these  it  was  a  most  admirable  farce,  and  they  concluded 
the  priest  was  a  crazy  man,  whose  vein  was,  of  all  things,  amus 
ing.  Our  Peter  all  this  while  looked  on  with  surprise  and  aston 
ishment  ;  but  not  being  accustomed  to  the  sea,  he  had  but  little 
appetite,  and,  consequently,  no  desire  to  fill  the  place  allotted  to 
his  illustrious  namesake." 

"But  where  did  he  sleep?"  asked  Mrs.  Smith;  "his  berth 
must  have  told  the  tale  of  his  presence,  if  his  appetite  did  not." 

"  Peter  writes,"  replied  the  Gentleman  in  Black,  "  that  during 
the  mate's  watch  he  slept  in  his  berth,  and  when  the  captain  was 
called,  and  before  the  mate  came  down,  he  crept  into  the  cap 
tain's  berth,  and  so  eluded  their  observation,  as  well  as  that  of 
the  steward,  during  the  whole  voyage.  But  after  Peter  had  been 
out  at  sea  some  two  or  three  days,  his  appetite  became  so  exact- 


132  PETER  SCHLEMIHL. 

ing  that  he  could  no  longer  content  himself  with  the  crumbs 
which  fell  from  the  table,  and  seeing  the  plate  filled  with  very 
tempting  viands,  he  made  bold  to  seat  himself  in  the  Apostle's 
chair,  and  commenced  the  work  of  consumption  in  good  earnest. 
The  astonishment  of  the  priest  was  only  equalled  by  the  wonder 
of  the  captain  and  mate,  which  took  from  them  all  their  wonted 
appetite,  while  it  left  them  at  leisure  to  watch  the  rapid  disap 
pearance  of  the  food  from  the  plate  of  the  venerated  saint.  Nor 
was  this  astonishment  confined  to  the  cabin  ;  the  crew,  duly  ad 
vised  by  the  steward  of  what  was  going  on  below,  forgot  every 
thing  to  get  a  peep  at  the  real  Apostle  Peter  in  the  act  of  dining. 
The  intense  interest  manifested  by  the  Catholics  was  only  equal 
to  the  doubt  and  wonder  exhibited  by  the  Puritans.  *  Faith,' 
said  one  of  these  last,  *  St.  Peter  has  a  most  wonderful  appetite 
of  his  own.'  '  By  St.  Patrick !'  cried  out  the  poor  Irishman,  with 
ecstacy  of  tone,  4  see  how  the  praties  go ;  I'll  swear  he's  an 
Irishman,  every  inch  of  him.'  The  Spaniard  said  his  beads 
.with  an  excess  of  devotion,  looking  every  now  and  then  to  see 
the  progress  the  Apostle  made  of  his  meal.  The  truth  is,  this 
having  a  saint  on  board  ship  made  him  feel  very  uncomfortable, 
and  he  had  many  recollections  of  acts  long  since  forgotten,  which 
he  had  no  wish  to  have  revived :  and  in  this  state  of  feelings  all 
the  crew  shared  more  or  less,  according  to  the  course  of  their 
past  lives,  and,  though  they  dared  not  to  say  it,  they  all  wished 
him  in  Heaven  rather  than  aboard  their  ship. 

"  This  state  of  surprise,  however,  wore  off  after  a  day  or  two, 
and  the  priest  gathered  courage  to  address  the  Apostle  on  sub 
jects  connected  with  his  own  peculiar  views,  and  requested  him 
to  give  his  unquestioned  testimony  to  the  truth  of  the  revelations 
he  had  so  much  at  heart  to  promulgate,  about  all  which  the  cap 
tain  and  mate  had  shown  the  most  arrant  skepticism.  The  poor 
saint  found  himself  in  sad  extremities  when  he  was  asked  about 
his  'interiors,'  of  the  spirit's  existence  in  a  world  in  which  there 
was  neither  time  nor  space — an  assertion  which  the  captain  and 
mate  said  was  an  absurdity,  '  For,'  said  they,  '  if  a  spirit  had  the 
form  of  a  man,  that  form  must,  of  necessity,  occupy  space,'  and 
so  these  problems  of  the  Old  Schoolmen  came  up  in  a  discussion 
by  men  who  never  had  heard  of  Duns  Scotus  and  his  astute  dis 
ciples,  by  whom  this  subject  had  been  exhausted  five  centuries 
ago ;  and,  by  whom,  all  that  human  subtilty  can  invent  on  the 
subject  of  time,  space,  and  infinity,  together  with  the  modes  of 
existence  of  spirit  and  of  Deity,  has  been  laboriously  elaborated. 
Now  whatever  may  have  been  the  ability  of  the  Apostle  himself 
to  unravel  these  mysteries,  which  have  confused  the  mightiest 


SWEDENBORGIANISM.  133 

minds  of  earth,  it  is  certain  that  our  Peter,  not  unlike  other  suc 
cessors  of  the  Apostle  elsewhere,  (when  asked  to  solve  questions 
hard  to  be  understood,)  found  it  safest  and  best  to  shield  his  infal 
libility  by  keeping  his  own  counsel. 

"  One  day  the  priest  produced  his  Bible  to  refresh  his  memory 
with  a  text,  and  it  occurred  to  our  Peter  that  he  might  help  him 
self  out  of  the  dilemmas  in  which  he  so  constantly  found  him 
self,  by  making  use  of  the  sacred  writings.  The  subject  next  up 
was  the  occupations  of  the  invisible  world,  about  which  the  cap 
tain  had  his  own  notions. 

"  *  For  his  part,'  he  said,  '  he  didn't  believe  men  would  be  for 
ever  singing  hymns  as  we  see  'em  represented  in  the  churches  of 
the  old  countries,  a  parcel  of  unbreeched  cherubs,  sitting  on  a 
damp  cloud  with  psalm  books  in  their  hands* — nor  do  I  think 
men  would  be  likely  to  follow  the  seas,  as  I'm  compelled  to  do, 
away  from  my  wife  and  children.  That  wouldn't  suit  me, 
though,  for  aught  I  know,  it  may  be  a  heaven  upon  earth  to 
some  men.'  The  captain  looked  at  the  priest  as  though  he  meant 
he  should  take  it,  but  this  gentleman  only  smiled,  and  renewed 
the  topic  of  angelic  intercourse  with  Peter,  who,  taking  the  Bible, 
opened  it  to  the  following  passage,  which  he  marked  with  his 
pencil,  '  Beloved,  believe  not  every  spirit,  but  try  the  spirits 
whether  they  be  of  God.'  The  priest  deemed  this  rather  an 
evasive  answer,  and, delighted  that  the  Apostle  had  condescended 
to  give  him  a  reply  of  any  sort,  pushed  his  inquiries  still  further. 
Peter  bore  it  with  great  firmness  and  forbearance,  but  getting 
weary  of  all  this,  he  marked  the  following  text,  '  Avoid  profane 
and  vain  babblings,  and  oppositions  of  science,  falsely  so  called, 
which  some  professing,  have  erred  concerning  the  faith.'  The 
captain  clapped  his  hands  and  cried  out: 

"*  There  he's  into  ye,  doctor!' 

"  It  must  be  confessed  the  apostle  sunk  some  degrees  in  the 
esteem  of  his  host,  who  could  not  conceal  his  mortification  at  this 
repulse,  and  the  want  of  conformity  of  his  guest  to  his  own  che 
rished  opinions. 

"  But  it  was  evident  from  the  looks  of  Mr.  Kemble,  that  the 
apostle  rose  in  his  respect  as  rapidly  as  he  fell  in  that  of  the 
priest.  The  mate  had  taken  to  reading  Swedenborg's  books, 
which  lay  on  the  transom,  from  the  commencement  of  the  voyage, 
and  his  attention  was  especially  rivetted  by  the  treatise  on  con- 
jugial  love,t  so  much  so  that  the  captain  had  jeered  him  about 

*  Robert  Hall. 

t  Delights  of  Wisdom,  concerning  conjugial  love.  Boston :  printed  by  J.  Har 
rington  Carter  &  Co.,  pp.  458. 


134  PETER  SCHLEMIHL. 

being  in  a  fair  way  to  become  a  convert  to  the  *  new  church,' 
quoting  the  assumptive  title  of  the  priest.  And  now  having  the 
sanction  of  so  high  authority  as  St.  Peter  to  back  him  up,  he 
ventured  to  try  his  hand  at  an  argument.  Till  now  he  had  listened 
to  all  the  priest  had  said,  and  read  the  books,  consisting  of  the 
Arcana  and  other  standard  writers  of  this  new  religion,  of  which 
this  work  on  conjugial  love,  held,  as  it  would  naturally  do  with  a 
young  man,  a  chief  place  in  his  studies ;  so  laying  down  the  book, 
he  addressed  the  priest. 

44 '  Here  are  revelations  upon  revelations !  who  stands  sponsor  for 
all  these  astonishing  visions  ?  The  gospel  has  the  high  authen 
tication  of  prophecy  and  miracle,  but  what  has  Swedenborg  to 
show  he  was  not  a  maniac,  or  worse?' 

44  4  My  dear  Mr.  Kemble,  I  am  happy  to  find  in  this  company 
one  person — looking  as  he  said  so,  to  the  chair  of  St.  Peter,  with 
some  bitterness  of  expression — ready  to  discuss  the  claims  of 
Swedenborg  to  the  faith  of  the  world.  I  had  hoped  to  have  been 
sustained  where  as  yet  I  have  been  doomed  to  disappointment. 
But  this  may  be  explained  from  the  tenacity  of  men  in  adhering 
to  their  "prevailing  loves  "  and  I  presume  no  one  will  doubt  the 
love  of  a  certain  Apostle  to  power,  and  if  tradition  can  be  credited, 
a  supremacy  among  the  disciples.' 

44  4  Gently,  gently  !'  said  the  captain,  not  exactly  certain  how  it 
would  do  to  beard  an  Apostle  on  board  his  ship,  and  having  no 
desire  to  have  any  head  winds  in  consequence  of  the  disputations 
below  deck. 

"  The  priest  bowed  politely  to  the  captain  and  said, 4  The  liberty 
of  speech  and  of  action  were  the  first  of  the  privileges  of  the  citi 
zens  of  the  New  Jerusalem.'  Then  turning  to  Mr.  Kemble,  he 
said:  'Swedenborg  addresses  himself  to  the  reason — the  con 
sciousness.  If  a  man  has  a  soul  and  will  but  bring  it  to  the 
light,  it  must  be  enlightened — he  must  believe ;  not  by  force,  but 
by  love — for  "  miracles/orce  men  and  take  away  their  free  agency 
in  spiritual  things."  "  Faith  produced  by  miracles  is  not  faith  ; 
there's  nothing  rational  in  it,  still  less  spiritual — it  being  merely 
external  without  any  internal  principle."* 

44  The  mate  replied,  '  Our  Saviour,  who  is  the  only  God,  by 
your  system,  and  who  cannot  err,  performed  miracles,  and  made 
the  unbelief  of  Jews  an  aggravation  of  their  sin — but  it  may  be  I 
don't  understand  the  meaning  of  these  words,  for  if  there  is  a 
mystical  meaning  under  every  text,  how  am  I  ever  to  know  wha 
is  truth  ?  The  Bible,  I  was  once  taught,  was  a  plain  simple  book, 
but  this  4  Dictionary  of  Correspondences,'  continued  Mr.  Kemble, 

*  True  Chr.  Religion,  sec.  501 


OF  CONJUGIAL  LOVE.  135 

laying  his  hand  on  a  work  of  several  volumes,  '  upsets  all  confi 
dence  and  all  hope ;  for  here,  the  very  first  word,  Aaron,  has  no 
less  than  nine  distinct  meanings,  and  so,  after  having  rejected 
most  of  the  canonical  books,  you  make  of  the  rest  hodge-podge 
by  your  theory  of  correspondences.' 

"  '  Captain,'  said  Mr.  Kemble — turning  to  the  excellent  com 
mander  as  he  sat  leaning  his  head  on  his  elbows,  looking  for  all 
the  world  like  a  good-natured  Newfoundland  dog,  who  seems 
taking  in  all  his  master's  discourse — the  captain  pricked  up  his 
ears,  and  sat  upright — '  here's  a  book  which  I  have  been  studying 
these  few  days  past,'  putting  his  hand  on  the  book  of  conjugial 
love,  '  and  I  am  at  a  loss  what  leaf  to  refer  to,  which  I  might 
venture  to  read  aloud.' 

" '  My  dear  fellow  I'm  really  a  thousand  times  obliged  to  you, 
to  have  a  care  of  my  morals ;  they  need  looking  after ;  but  who 
would  have  thought  such  a  terrible  book  would  have  ever  been 
written  by  an  old  bachelor  of  a  doctor?  I'm  sure  I  sha'n't  dare 
to  read  a  line  in  it,'  taking  the  book  for  the  first  time  into  his 
hand,  and  really  beginning  to  read  it;  turning  to  the  table  of  con 
tents,  the  captain  whistled — '  This  opens  rich  !'  and  he  soon  grew 
so  deeply  enamored  of  the  book,  turning  from  the  table  of 
contents  to  the  sections,  as  to  have  very  little  concern  in  the 
course  of  conversation,  which  was  continued  by  the  mate  and 
priest.  The  subject  still  being  on  conjugial  love,  a  passion  exist 
ing,  and  constituting,  as  Swedenborg  has  it,  '  the  delight  of  all  de 
lights  in  heaven  !'*  '  Now  here,'  said  Mr.  Kemble,  *  is  a  copy 
of  Sale's  Koran,  and  I  will  read  you  the  passage  from  it,  de 
scribing  his  conceptions  of  paradise,  and  we  will  then  contrast  it 
with  Swedenborg,  and  if  the  apostle  will  be  pleased  to  decide,  I 
wish  he  would  do  so,  which  is  the  purest  picture  of  a  future  life. 
I  am  willing  to  abide  by  his  decision.'  So  saying,  Mr.  Kemble 
read  from  the  Koran,  the  following  passage  :— 

"  '  The  Lord  hath  prepared  two  gardens,  planted  with  shady 
trees ;  in  each  of  them  are  two  fountains  flowing,  and  of  every 
fruit  two  kinds.  Ye  shall  repose  on  couches,  the  linings  where- 

*  Socrates  preceded  Swedenborg  in  his  theory  of  Conjugial  Love.  In  the 
Symposia  of  Plato  and  Xeriophon,  his  views  are  stated,  but  he  was  far  more 
refined  than  the  Swedish  Ghost-seer.  "According  to  Xenophon,  physical  love 
was  directly  excluded  by  Socrates ;  according  to  Plato,  it  was  considered  as 
an  approximating  step  to  the  proper  and  true  love.  At  last,  however,  Alci- 
biades  comes  forward  in  Plato's  dialogue,  and  testifies,  what  certainly  is  his 
torical,  as  he  himself  knew  it  from  experience,  that  Socrates  was  unsuscepti 
ble  of  every  lower  kind  of  love,  being  devoted  to  spiritual  or  moral  Jove  alone. 
According  to  both  dialogues,  heavenly  love  is  different  from  the  earthly,  the 
heavenly  Aphrodite  from  the  common. — Xenophontis,  Convivium,  ch.  8,  sec. 
9. — Plato,  Symposium,  p.  385,  ed.  of  Becker." — Tholuck  on  Heathenism. 


1*36  PETER  SCHLEMIHL. 

of  are  thick  silk,  interwoven  with  gold,  and  the  first  of  the  two 
gardens  shall  be  near  at  hand  together.  Therein  shall  be  beaute 
ous  damsels,  whom  no  man  shall  have  embraced  before  thee, 
neither  any  spirit,  having  complexions  like  rubies  and  pearls. 
Shall  the  reward  of  good  works  be  other  than  good  ?  Beside 
there  shall  be  two  gardens  of  a  dark  green.  In  each  of  them 
shall  be  two  fountains  pouring  forth  plenty  of  water.  In  each 
of  them  shall  be  fruits,  and  palm  trees,  and  pomegranates. 
Therein  shall  be  agreeable  and  beautiful  damsels,  having  fine 
black  eyes,  and  kept  in  pavilions  from  public  view — which  of 
the  Lord's  gifts  will  ye  ungratefully  deny  ?  Blessed  be  the  name 
of  the  Lord — possessed  of  glory  and  honor.'  *  Such  are  the 
scenes  of  a  future  state,  as  revealed  by  Mahomet  the  false  pro 
phet. 

"  *  Now  we  come  to  the  descriptions  of  the  Baron  Sweden- 
borg,  the  true  prophet.  If  you  please,  hand  me  Apocalypse  Re 
vealed.'  The  book  was  handed.  '  I  purposed  to  read,  venera 
ble  sir,'  said  Mr.  Kemble,  looking  to  the  chair  of  St.  Peter,  '  sec 
tion  566  of  this  work,  but  I  believe  you  must  pardon  me,  if  I 
merely  make  a  brief  of  it.  We  have  here,  then,  "  a  splendid  palace, 
tiers  of  oil  and  wine,  tiers  of  fragrance,  and  a  feast  of  sweet  cakes 
and  condiments,  a  fountain  overflowing  with  nectareous  wine, 
the  stream  of  which  disperses  itself  and  fills  the  cups  of  the 
guests.  After  dinner,  games  of  hand-ball,  rackets,  and  the  sports 
of  love."  I  will  not  presume  to  read  the  passages  which  give 
the  physical  reasons  for  the  superiority  of  the  conjugal  relations 
in  heaven.  They  may  be  found  in  sections  4403,  5050-5053  of 
Arcana  Celestia,  and  in  sections  44,  103-114,  183  of  Conjugial 
Love.  It  seems  the  ladies  have  the  advantage  of  us,  in  having  a 
sixth  sense.  And  if  it  be  said  by  the  advocates  of  this  new 
heresy,  that  though  I  have  not  misquoted  Swedenborg,  I  do  not 
understand  him  as  he  designs  to  be  understood  in  this  matter,  I 
beg  leave  to  say,  Swedenborg  affirms,  "  there  is  altogether  a  simi 
lar  love  between  consorts  in  heaven,  as  in  earth,"  and  not  only 
so,  but  that  it  results  in  "similar  ultimate  delights;"  if  it  were 
fitting  to  speak  more  plainly,  the  language  is  all  here,'  laying  his 
hand  on  Conjugial  Love. 

"The  captain,  who  had  been  all  the  while  reading  and  examin 
ing  the  book,  with  an  attention  so  absorbed,  as  to  admit  of  no 
consciousness  of  what  was  being  said, — now  that  the  mate  laid  his 
hand  on  the  page  he  was  reading, — lifted  up  his  head  with  the 
look  of  one  amazed,  and  leaving  the  Swedenborgian  no  time  for 
the  elaborate  reply  he,  no  doubt,  had  ready  for  the  mate,  broke 
in  upon  all  order  of  debate,  by  asking  the  priest — a  very  strange 
question  truly !  and  in  a  most  abrupt  tone— 


OF  DIVORCES.  137 

"  '  Where's  your  wife  ?'  The  priest  hesitated  an  instant,  and 
the  captain  repeated  his  inquiry. 

"  '  For  what  cause  did  you  separate  yourself  from  your  wife  ? 
Are  you  divorced  ?' 

"  The  priest  now  recovered  his  presence  of  mind,  and  replied, 
1 1  am  at  a  loss  to  know,  captain,  why  you  put  such  inquiries  to 
me,  and  beg  before  I  reply,  that  you  will  explain  your  object 
in  putting  them  to  me.' 

" '  Certainly  !'  exclaimed  the  captain,  all  wide  awake,  *  here 
I  read  of  fifty  or  more  "  legitimate,  just  and  truly  sufficient  causes 
which  justify  separations,  and  the  taking  of  a  concubine  to  supply 
the  place  of  a  wife."  Fifty  causes  for  divorce,  when  the  Bible 
allows  but  one.  Pray  tell  us  what  these  fifty  causes  are?' 

"  The  priest  replied,  '  they  are  both  mental  and  physical ;  I  need 
not  go  into  particulars ;  but  Swedenborg  teaches,  "  it  is  a  legiti 
mate,  just  and  truly  sufficient  cause  of  separation  and  concu 
binage  that  a  wife  is  subject  to  a  severe  hysteric  disease." 
Here  the  captain  lifted  up  both  hands  ;  the  priest  continued  :  *  or 
"  the  highest  stubbornness  in  not  obeying  what  is  just  and  equal," 
or  "  that  she  talks  upon  nothing  but  insignificant  things,  and  trifles," 
or  "  that  she  has  crude  eructations  from  the  stomach,"*  which  was 
the  case  with  my  wife.' 

" '  By  the  Lord  Harry  !  did  I  ever  hear  the  like  before  ?'  cried 
the  captain  ;  '  and  so,  instead  of  giving  your  wife  a  prescription 
of  magnesia,  you  write  her  out  a  bill  of  divorcement.  Really 
this  is  matrimony  made  easy,  with  a  witness.  And  what  provi 
sion  does  the  old  Swede  make  for  such  young  bloods  as  Kemble?' 

"  '  Swedenborg,'  continued  the  priest,  with  all  gravity,  '  as  you 
will  see  in  Conjugial  Love,  page  353,  and  in  section  459,  sanc 
tions  the  largest  liberty  any  virtuous-minded  man  can  desire,  to 
the  unmarried.'! 

"  '  And  how  many  mistresses  may  a  man  have  at  a  time  ?' 

"  '  Only  one,'  replied  the  priest,  calmly,  '  and  then  only  in  the 
temper  of  conjugial  love.' 

"  '  Only  think  of  that,  Kemble  !'  exclaimed  the  captain.  Then 
turning  to  the  Apostle  Peter,  he  said,  '  I'm  not  half  so  good  a 
man  as  I  might  be,  and  not  in  the  least  like  a  saint ;  but  after  all 
I  can  give  a  small  appendix  to  the  next  edition  of  this  book, 
which  will  make  it  sell  as  rapidly  as  did  De  Foe's  vision  of  Mrs. 
Veal,  or  "  Reflections  on  Death,"  by  the  Rev.  Dr.  Drelincourt. 
Now,  sir,'  addressing  the  priest,  '  what  I  have  to  say,  you  may 

*  See  Conj.  Love,  Sects.  252,  253,  4G2,  470. 

-j-  This  subject  is  treated  of  by  Rev.  Dr.  Pond,  in  his  "Review  of  Sweden- 
borgianism"  with  a  fullness  of  detail  that  may  be  allowed  of  in  a  divine,  but 
would  be  very  wicked  if  repeated  by — Peter  Schlemihl. 


138  PETER  SCHLEMIHL. 

put  in  front  or  behind,  I  don't  care  where  it  is,  of  the  next  edi 
tion  of  this  book.  I  am  sure  everybody  will  say  there's  more 
gospel  in  my  way  of  managing  women,  than  this  old  ghost-seer 
ever  dreamed  of,  with  all  his  dreams.  Let  me  tell  you,  sir,  this 
breaking  up  the  relations  of  husband  and  wife  is  no  child's-play ; 
'tis  not  a  game  of"  fast  and  loose,"  to  be  so  much  as  thought  of,  even 
if  there  were  no  children  whose  rights  and  affections  are  to  be  con 
sulted.  But  now,  sir,  for  my  method  of  curing  the  first  of  those 
horrid  enormities,  which  justify  your  New  Jerusalem  saints  in 
sending  their  wives  adrift,  "  the  having  a  severe  hysteric  disease."  ! 
The  captain  having  put  into  his  mouth  a  fresh  plug  of  tobacco, 
and  pulling  down  his  vest,  with  a  most  positive  air  and  look,  com 
menced  as  follows : — 

"*  When  a  man  speaks  of  his  own  wife,  he  is  allowed  to  be  a 
little  poetical,  I  suppose,  and  I  claim  the  right  to  say  that  my  wife 
is  one  of  the  finest  built  women  that  lives  on  the  shores  or  bays 
of  the  Hudson.  She  has  a  bright  black  eye  of  her  own,  and  her 
head  has  a  trim  set,  when  it's  rigged  out  with  a  new  bonnet,  and 
her  step  a  pointing  of  the  toe,  which  can't  be  exceeded  anywhere 
in  all  the  world.  When  she's  drest  you'd  swear  she  was  made 
for  the  clothes,  and  not  the  clothes  for  her,  and  she  walks  with  an 
ease  and  air,  which  not  one  man  in  fifty  but  stops  and  looks  round 
to  take  another  look  at  her;  now,  sir,  there's  my  wife  !  And  is 
such  a  woman  as  that  to  be  sent  out,  bag  and  baggage,  because 
she  takes  it  into  her  head  to  get  up  a  scene  or  two  of  hysterics  ? 
certainly  not !'  exclaimed  the  captain.  '  I  appeal  to  the  Apostle 
Peter  !'  The  captain  now  turned  to  Peter,  and  with  the  air  of  a 
man  about  to  state  a  case,  in  which  he  felt  the  deepest  interest. 

"  '  Sir,  you  had  a  Madam  Apostle  Peter,  a  woman  who  went 
with  you  in  all  your  journeyings,  establishing  and  confirming  the 
churches,  perilous  journeys  they  were,  no  doubt,  and  your  saint 
like  lady  doubtless  had  her  ups  and  downs,  and  like  another  Mrs. 
Whitefield,  might  have  been  a  little  jealous  of  the  fair  converts, 
when  they  made  too  free  with  her  husband,  as  they  are  apt  to  do. 
Now,  sir,  did  it  ever  come  down  to  you,  in  a  vision,  or  any  other 
way,  that  Mrs.  Peter  was  to  be  sent  about  her  business,  because 
she  sometimes  was  a  little  out  of  sorts,  and  thought  her  rights  in 
fringed  upon  ?  Not  at  all  !'  Here  Peter  gave  his  knock  on  the 
table,  which  he  had  from  the  first  adopted  as  a  sign,  when  he 
would  answer  in  the  affirmative. 

"  '  My  dear  sir,'  said  the  captain,  leaning  toward  the  apostle  in 
a  confiding  and  familiar  manner,  *  how  has  it  happened  that  the 
Church  of  Rome  has  never  put  your  wife's  name  in  the  Calendar 
of  Saints?  They  have  canonized  all  sorts  of  women,  some  for 
preferring  hair  shirts  to  linen  ones,  and  for  sleeping  on  boards  in- 


THE  CAPTAIN'S  WIFE.  139 

stead  of  beds.  Now  this  is  very  strange;  and  if  you  will  allow 
me  to  advise  you  as  to  your  course  of  proceeding  when  we  arrive 
home,  I  will  show  you  how  all  this  may  be  set  right.  "  Our 
Church,"  I  mean  the  one  to  which  my  wife  belongs,  is  very  anx 
ious  to  be  put  at  the  head  of  all  the  churches  of  the  world,  as  the 
pure  Apostolic  Church,  and  if  you  will  keep  yourself  aloof  from 
all  the  Presbyterians,  and  Methodists  and  Baptists,  and  turn  up 
your  nose  at  them  as  dissenters,  and  not  make  a  fool  of  yourself, 
as  Mah  Yohannan,  the  Armenian  bishop  did,  during  his  late  visit 
to  our  country,  by  mixing  himself  up  with  all  sorts  of  people, 
you  can  have  everything  your  own  way,  and  they  will  be  right 
glad  of  the  chance  of  making  you  their  Primate,  and  your  wife 
Arch  Primate  of  our  House  of  Bishops,  and  we  will  get  up  such 
a  glorification,  as  will  put  all  the  poor  outcasts  of  the  Church  to 
shame.' 

"  Peter  rapped  on  the  table  his  affirmative,  and  the  captain  was 
so  delighted  with  the  anticipated  triumphs  of  the  Church  of  the  Re 
public,  that  he  seemed  to  have  forgotten  all  about  what  he  had 
promised  to  tell  them  as  his  remedy  for  hysterical  wives. 

"  Mr.  Kemble  reminded  the  captain  of  his  promise,  and  claimed 
his  compliance. 

"  'Certainly,'  said  the  captain.  'You  must  know,  then,  that 
last  October  was  a  year,  when  I  arrived  at  Babylon  with  a  cargo 
of  teas  from  Canton,  and  as  soon  as  it  was  possible,  I  left  the 
ship,  and  under  the  highest  steam-pressure,  set  out  for  my  little 
nook  of  a  village,  on  the  Hudson,  where  my  whole  stock  of  hu 
man  hopes  and  affections  lay  invested  in  a  wife  and  three  chil 
dren.  Tt  is  singular,  perhaps,  but  so  it  is,  that  I  never  have  any 
dread  that  anything  can  have  happened  to  my  family,  till  I  get  on 
soundings,  and  then  I  can  neither  sleep  nor  eat,  till  I  get  into  port, 
and  have  seen  my  owners,  and  found  out  if  all  is  well  at  home. 
I  had  the  happiness  to  learn  that  my  family  had  been  increased 
by  a  fine  boy,  born  one  month  after  my  departure.  You  may 
guess  my  impatience  to  see  him.  I  sent  off  a  letter  announcing 
my  arrival,  and  the  day  on  which  I  should  be  at  home.  My  wel 
come  was  as  joyous  as  I  could  have  wished  it  to  be.  The  boy 
was  a  noble  fellow,  a  year  old,  and  as  like  me  as  two  peas.  These 
are  bright  days  of  sunshine,  which  repay  a  sailor  for  some  of  the 
storms  of  his  ocean  life,  and  of  which  his  owners,  though  they 
get  all  the  profit  of  the  voyage,  can't  deprive  him,  though  they 
would  do  so  if  they  could,  for  they  grudge  everything  to  their 
ship-masters. 

"  'After  I  had  been  at  home  three  days,  I  returned  to  finish  up 
the  voyage  with  the  owners,  and  haul  up  the  ship.  This  done, 
I  returned,  bag  and  baggage,  to  my  wife,  to  make  a  long  stay  at 


140  PETER  SCHLEMIHL. 

home.  The  opening  of  a  sailor's  boxes  is  always  a  matter  of 
interest  to  captains'  wives,  and  I  had  procured  for  myself  all 
the  presents  Canton  provides.  Two  pieces  of  rich  silk  for 
dresses,  a  set  of  lacquered  tea-tables,  a  set  of  carved  chessmen, 
and  things  of  that  sort.  I  saw  a  look  of  disappointment  upon 
my  wife's  face,  but  she  said  nothing,  and  so  the  matter  passed  off. 
But  when  Sunday  morning  came,  my  wife  was  exceedingly  cross, 
and  declared  she  wouldn't  go  to  church,  though  she  was  as  regu 
lar  as  the  sexton,  "  for,"  she  said,  "  I've  nothing  fit  to  wear."  I 
thought  it  very  odd,  but  said  nothing,  and  taking  my  little  boy  and 
girl,  set  off  for  church.  Everybody  was  glad  to  see  me,  and  I 
quite  forgot  that  all  was  not  right  at  home,  till  I  found  my  way 
back  into  my  house.  There  my  wife  stood,  ready  to  scold  the 
children  for  muddying  their  shoes,  and  would  have  spanked  them 
on  the  spot,  if  I  had  not  interfered,  with  a  good  deal  of  firmness 
in  word  and  look.  The  children  were  undressed,  and  dinner 
served,  and  nothing  on  the  table  was  cooked  fit  to  eat.  And  so 
the  next  week  passed  on.  My  coffee  was  as  thick  as  mud — my 
turkeys  done  to  a  crust,  and  I  well  knew  the  devil  was  about  to 
be  let  loose,  but  for  why,  I  couldn't  guess.  In  the  meanwhile, 
my  wife's  sister,  who  had  been  a  sort  of  ship's-cousin  quartered 
upon  me,  ever  since  my  marriage,  looked  all  the  while  as  demure 
as  a  Connecticut  deacon  under  the  parish  pulpit,  and  gave  no 
sign  to  show  me  what  all  this  was  about. 

" '  On  the  next  Saturday  afternoon,  as  I  was  sitting  with  my  wife 
and  children,  I  heard  a  knock  at  the  door,  and  called  out  "  Come 
in" — and  in  came  my  old  friend,  Captain  Thomas  Bowline,  and 
his  wife,  in  all  the  splendors  of  a  new  rig.  He  had  returned  the 
week  before  me  from  Calcutta,  and  we  were  the  only  sea-faring 
men  of  the  place,  and  though  our  wives  were  neighbors,  it  so 
happened,  that  we  had  not  been  home,  at  the  same  time,  for  six 
years. 

" '  I  was  delighted  to  see  them  both,  and  my  wife,  I  thought, 
was  wonderfully  cool,  though  exceedingly  polite.  I  soon  forgot 
all  about  her  manner,  in  the  pleasure  of  talking  over  our  several 
fortunes  since  we  last  met ;  and  as  we  had  not  met  before,  he 
having  been  absent  from  the  village  since  my  coming  home,  we 
had  many  things  to  talk  over.  They  made  a  long  call,  and  when 
they  went  away,  my  wife  went  up  to  her  room,  and  I  saw  no 
more  of  her,  for  when  tea  was  ready,  she  sent  word  down  that 
she  had  a  headache,  and  had  gone  to  bed. 

"  '  The  next  morning  matters  wore  no  more  pleasant  aspect  than 
they  had  done,  and  when  the  first  church  bell  began  to  ring,  my 
wife  burst  out  into  a  flood  of  tears,  and  set  off  for  her  chamber. 
I  followed  her,  and  there  she  lay,  on  the  bed,  in  a  regular  fit  of  hys- 


CAPTAIN  WEATHERSFIELD  AND  HIS  WIFE.  141 

terics.  When  she  came  to  herself,  I  asked — "  Why,  what  on 
earth  !  what  is  all  this  about?"  She  rose,  and  putting  her  hands 
on  my  shoulders,  looked  me  full  in  the  face,  and  said — "  Captain 
Weatherstield,  if  you  don't  know,  you  ought  to  know"  and  I 
Malted  down  under  her  look,  like  a  boy  caught  in  the  act  of 
playing  truant. 

"  '  There's  very  few  men,'  said  the  captain,  addressing  the  Apos 
tle  Peter,  'who,  after  a  long  voyage,  could  have  stood  such  an 
appeal  as  this.  I  felt  some  rascal  had  been  telling  stories  out  of 
school ;  but  for  the  life  of  me,  couldn't  conceive  who  it  could  be. 
And  then  my  wife  went  off  again,  into  another  fit,  worse  than  the 
first.  I  took  off  her  shoes,  and  her  feet  were  as  cold  as  ice.  As 
I  rubbed  them,  I  conjured  up  all  the  recollections  of  my  voyage, 
and  they  were  not  half  as  pleasant  as  I  could  have  wished  them. 
But  finding  it  impossible  to  restore  my  wife,  I  ran  down  stairs, 
leaving  the  doors  all  open  behind  me,  to  the  kitchen,  to  make 
some  mulled  wine,  and  there  was  my  wife's  sister,  with  her  de 
mure  face,  which  helped  to  irritate  me  no  little.  I  called  for 
wine,  and  spices,  and  a  porringer,  and  while  it  was  heating  she 
began,  by  saying — "  She  wished  to  Heaven  her  sister  knew  how 
to  treat  a  husband  as  he  deserved  to  be  treated — that  if  she  was 
a  wife,  she  should  know  how  to  prize  a  man  who  did  everything 
a  man  could  do  to  please  her."  I  was  in  no  humor  to  hear  my 
wife  abused,  and  so  I  burst  out  upon  her  in  a  rage,  and  told  her 
"  I  believed  she  was  a  snake  in  the  grass,  and  that  I  had  rather 
have  her  sister,  than  ten  thousand  such  hypocrites  as  she  was ; 
that  if  there  was  any  mischief  made  between  me  and  my  wife,  I 
knew  whom  to  thank  for  it  all."  She  lifted  up  her  hands,  and 
said  :  "  She  believed  all  men  were  fools,  and  of  all  fools  I  was 
the  greatest."  This  brought  on  a  spirited  altercation,  in  which  I 
spoke  my  mind  pretty  plainly.  So  soon  as  I  had  heated  the  wine, 
I  decanted  it  into  a  tumbler.  My  wife's  sister  had  recommended 
hot  vinegar,  but  I  told  her  "  I  would  leave  the  vinegar  cruet  all  to 
herself;  I  knew  a  better  thing  than  that  for  my  wife." 

*' '  On  my  way  up  stairs,  I  thought  I  heard  my  wife's  footsteps 
about  the  chamber,  but  on  entering,  I  found  her  lying  on  the  bed, 
crying  in  a  very  sensible  way,  so  I  found  no  difficulty  in  persuad 
ing  her  to  drink  the  mulled  wine,  and  then  I  set  to  work  rubbing 
her  feet  again.  She  now  began  to  sob,  and  to  say,  "  She  didn't 
deserve  to  have  such  a  husband — I  was  too  good  for  her — 
nobody  would  love  her — nobody  ought  to  love  her."  I  felt  en 
couraged  to  leave  rubbing  her  feet,  and  take  to  rubbing  her  hands, 
and  to  kiss  her,  begging  her  to  tell  me  "  What  was  the  matter." 
And  then  she  fell  to  crying  again,  and  sobbing,  she  said — "  She 
couldn't  tell  me,  for  I  should  hate  her,  and  she  deserved  to  be 


142  PETER  SCHLEMIHL. 

hated,"  and  all  that  sort  of  thing.  The  more  she  decried  herself, 
the  more  penitent  I  became,  and  was  on  the  point  of  making  a 
clean  breast,  and  asking  her  forgiveness ;  but  luckily,  I  did  no 
such  thing,  for  after  sobbing,  the  secret  came  out,  "  Captain  Bow 
line  had  brought  home  to  his  wife  a  Cashmere  shawl,  and  I  had 
only  brought  her  a  silk  dress."  "  Is  that  all!"  I  exclaimed,  and  I 
kissed  her  as  heartily  as  ever  a  woman  was  kissed  before.  And 
now  'twas  my  turn  to  complain,  to  tell  her  "  how  unkind  she  had 
been  to  keep  me  in  such  suspense  all  the  while,"  and  then  came 
her  turn  to  put  her  arms  round  my  neck,  and  to  kiss  me,  and  beg 
to  be  forgiven.  All  which,  I  assure  you,  was  a  very  agreeable 
winding  up  of  this  scene. 

"  'I  was  not  long  in  discovering  the  whole  secret  of  my  wife's 
grievances.  She  thought  I  didn't  love  her  as  much  as  Captain 
Tom  loved  his  wife,  because  I  brought  China  silks  from  Canton, 
instead  of  an  India  shawl;  but  I  explained  to  her  that  Cashmere 
shawls  came  from  one  part  of  the  world,  and  silk  from  another; 
but  these  women  believe  shawls  are  made  everywhere  beyond  the 
seas. 

"  '  Now,  as  your  reverence  knows,'  continued  the  Captain,  bow 
ing  to  Peter's  chair,  '  every  woman  has  her  Napoleon  Bonaparte, 
and  my  wife's  was  Mrs.  Tom  Bowline,  and  the  thought  of  being 
outshone  by  her  at  church  had  caused  all  this  commotion,  now 
so  happily  ended  in  a  clearing  up  shower.  I  told  my  wife  her 
wishes  should  be  gratified  so  soon  as  ever  I  had  it  in  my  power 
to  do  so,  and  intended  that  this  should  be  done  as  soon  as  ever  I 
could  find  a  shawl  to  my  mind. 

"  'By  dinner  time  my  wife  was  dressed,  and  as  we  sat  down  to 
dinner  she  looked  as  happy  as  a  bride,  and  as  for  myself,  I  never 
was  happier  in  my  life.  My  wife's  sister  looked  on  with  aston 
ishment,  and  I  was  surprised  to  see  for  the  first  time,  that  my 
wife  spoke  to  her  with  a  little  tinge  of  sharpness.  I  had  reason 
to  believe  afterwards,  that  my  wife  hearing  our  loud  talking,  had 
come  to  the  head  of  the  stairs  and  overheard  us.  It  was  one  of 
those  few  instances  in  which  listeners  hear  good  things  of  them 
selves  ;  and  resulted  in  my  wife's  sister  finding  the  house  too  hot 
for  her ;  so  she  married  herself  off  to  a  saddler,  and  removed  to 
Babylon. 

"  *  But  to  go  on  with  my  story ;  the  next  day  my  wife  and  I  set 
out  for  Babylon,  she  to  have  her  China  silks  made  up,  and  as  for 
myself,  I  really  had  no  other  business  than  to  accompany  her, 
and  to  buy  a  shawl,  which  should  outshine  Mrs.  Tom  Bowline's. 
Fortunately,  I  found  my  old  friend  Briggs,  of  Salem,  just  in  from 
Calcutta,  with  a  half  dozen  magnificent  shawls,  of  which  he 
allowed  me  to  make  my  pick,  at  cost  price,  and  a  bill  made  out 


THE  CAPTAIN'S  WIFE  AT  CHURCH.  143 

at  any  price  I  pleased  to  have  affixed.  So  I  modestly  told  him 
he  might  receipt  a  bill  for  one  at  seven  hundred  and  fifty  dollars, 
for  which  I  paid  him  three  hundred.  This  I  had  safely  stowed 
away  in  my  trunk  as  a  coat  I  had  been  buying.  I  purchased, 
besides,  a  fine  satin  bonnet  with  a  plume  that  drooped  down  on 
her  shoulder  in  the  most  bewitching  style,  and  she  was  perfectly 
delighted  with  her  visit.  We  remained  in  town  a  week,  when 
her  silks  came  home  from  the  milliners.  Her  dresses  were  just 
as  she  liked  to  have  them  ;  a  most  rare  thing,  I  can  tell  you,  and 
as  to  the  bonnet,  no  language  could  express  her  admiration  of  it. 
And  so  we  reached  home  on  Saturday  night,  perfectly  well  pleased 
with  everything  in  the  house  and  out  of  it. 

"  '  The  next  day  was  rather  a  bright  frosty  day,  and  my  wife 
dressed  in  her  beautiful  bonnet  and  rich  silk  dress,  certainly  looked 
charming.  She  had  a  pretty  fur  cape  on,  and  with  a  sweet  smile 
said,  "  Now,  dear,  let  us  go,  for  the  bell  is  tolling."  You  must 
know  my  wife  never  goes  into  church  too  soon,  but  just  before 
the  minister  commences  his  prayers.  "  Why,  my  dear,  where's 
your  shawl  ?"  "  Oh  !  I  don't  need  a  shawl  to-day."  "  But,  love, 
just  please  me,  and  wear  one  ;"  she  was  for  an  instant  a  little  dis 
pleased,  but  quelling  the  feeling,  she  ran  up  stairs,  and  there  lay 
my  splendid  present  on  her  bureau.  She  came  running  down 
with  it  on  her  arm,  and  throwing  her  arms  round  my  neck,  burst 
into  tears.  As  I  knew  these  tears  did  her  good,  I  let  her  cry 
them  out,  and  so  soon  as  they  could  be  dried  away,  she  put  on 
her  shawl,  found  it  all  right,  and  though  I  say  it,  there  never  was 
a  finer  looking,  nor  a  happier  woman  in  the  world  than  my  wife 
at  that  moment. 

" '  We  walked  up  the  head  of  the  broad  aisle,  in  presence  of 
the  whole  congregation,  to  our  pew,  next  to  the  minister's,  and  it 
would  have  done  your  heart  good  to  have  heard  her  sweet,  clear, 
ringing  voice,  making  the  responses  ;  she  seemed  especially  de 
sirous  that  all  the  congregation  should  know  what  a  miserable 
sinner  she  was,  and  how  "  she  had  done  the  things  she  ought  not 
to  have  done ;"  and  when  the  service  was  over,  she  had  a  kind 
word  for  every  one,  especially  was  she  anxious  for  the  health  of 
Mrs.  Bowline,  and  all  her  children,  and  on  the  church  steps  she 
lingered  to  speak  to  all  our  neighbors,  high  and  low,  far  and  near  ; 
so  it  was  pretty  well  advertised  before  we  got  home,  that  my  wife 
had  a  splendid  shawl,  the  prettiest  bonnet,  and  the  richest  silk 
dress  ever  seen  in  that  parish.  As  for  poor  Mrs.  Tom  Bowline, 
her  dinner  was  spoilt  for  one  day.  Nor  was  she  the  only  woman 
made  miserable  by  my  wife's  finery.  Many  an  old  cloak  and 
shawl,  which  in  the  morning  was  thought  good  enough  to  last 
another  winter,  was  now  taken  off  with  a  feeling  of  absolute 


144  PETER  SCHLEMIHL. 

loathing.  The  wives  of  all  the  parish  praised  me  up  to  the  hus 
bands,  as  "such  a  kind  man,"  "one  who  loved  to  see  his  wife  look 
like  somebody  ;"  and  the  daughters  teased  their  fathers  for  new 
bonnets  and  shawls,  so  that  I  was  abundantly  abused  on  all  hands 
by  the  men,  for  spending  all  my  money  on  my  wife's  back  ;  and 
when  the  secret  leaked  out  what  my  wife's  shawl  cost,  for  I  took 
care  to  hide  Brigg's  bill,  where  my  wife  was  sure  to  find  it,  the 
admiration  of  the  women,  and  the  contempt  of  the  men,  rose  to 
the  highest  pitch.  One  thing  is  certain — never  had  the  parish 
church  worn  such  a  fashionable  air  before  as  it  did  that  winter. 
Now,'  said  the  Captain,  with  a  thump  on  the  table  which  made 
the  glasses  dance,  *  there's  my  method  of  treating  women  with 
hysterics.  And  I  will  give  you,  sir,' addressing  the  priest, 'the 
exact  proportions  of  spice  to  be  put  into  a  pint  of  wine,  and  in 
your  next  edition  of  Conjugial  Love,  I  beg  you  will  put  it  in  as 
Captain  Weathersfield's  remedy.  Women  will  sometimes  be 
cross-grained  ;  it  can't  be  helped  !  but  instead  of  breaking  up  all 
the  relations  of  husband  and  wife,  mother  and  child,  the  most 
terrible  of  all  calamities,  let  everybody  try  my  prescription — a 
pint  of  mulled  wine  taken  warm  on  going  to  bed,  and  a  Cash 
mere  shawl  in  the  morning — and  I  pledge  you  my  life  it  will 
work  wonders.  There  need  never  be  another  divorce  on  that 
score — don't  you  think  so  ?'  said  the  Captain  turning  briskly  to 
Peter. 

"  Poor  Peter  had  listened  with  all  the  ears  in  his  head,  and 
now  only  saved  his  reputation  for  sanctity  by  running  on  deck 
and  stepping  up  into  the  main  top,  where  he  had  his  explosion 
of  mirth  out  of  hearing.  So  soon  as  he  had  regained  his  com 
posure,  he  returned  to  the  cabin.  He  found  the  priest  had  retired 
to  his  state-room — the  Captain  was  taking  a  nap,  and  Mr.  Kem- 
ble  was  on  deck,  walking  with  his  accustomed  air  of  abstraction 
and  thoughtfulness. 

"  At  supper,  however,  the  priest  returned  to  the  attack,  and 
after  telling  Peter  of  the  grounds  for  his  own  convictions  of  the 
truth  of  Swedenborg's  revelations,  was  shocked  beyond  measure 
by  Peter  marking  the  verse,  *  Refuse  profane  and  old  wives' 
fables.'  But  I  should  weary  you  to  tell  you  of  all  these  contro 
versies,  which  are  fully  related  in  Peter's  letters  to  his  sister. 

"It appears  that  in  proportion  as  the  Apostle  lost  ground  with 
the  priest,  he  gained  favor  with  the  captain,  who,  one  morning, 
begged  him  to  remain  after  breakfast,  '  as  he  had  something  particu 
lar  to  say  to  him.'  Peter,  accordingly,  kept  his  seat,  wondering 
what  was  to  happen.  The  captain,  when  all  had  left  the  cabin, 
drew  up  his  chair  yet  closer  to  the  table,  and,  in  a  low  voice,  told 
him  'he  had  a  great  secret  to  tell  him,  and  that  he,  Peter,  could 


SQUARING  OF  THE  CIRCLE.  145 

do  him  the  greatest  favor  he  could  possibly  receive,  and  for  which 
he  would  make  him  any  sort  of  compensation  he  might  ask  of 
him.'  Peter  was  all  astonishment  and  expectation.  The  cap 
tain  paused  as  though  the  confidence  he  was  about  to  repose  was 
almost  too  much  to  give  even  to  the  Apostle  Peter,  and  his  coun 
tenance  was  full  of  the  intense  interest  he  felt  in  what  he  was  about 
to  say.  Screwing  his  courage  up  to  the  sticking  point,  he  said,  '  I 
have  discovered  how  to  square  the  circle  !' 

"  '  Is  it  possible !'  exclaimed  our  Peter,  in  the  very  best  of 
English. 

"  Now  he  could  not  have  said  three  words  which  went  so 
directly  to  the  heart  of  the  captain.  It  at  once  assured  him  of 
his  success,  and  the  glorious  visions  of  wealth  and  fame  were,  at 
that  moment,  all  his  own. 

"  *  Yes,  that  I  have,  and  I  will  show  how  it's  done.  You  see, 
I've  always  thought  it  could  be  done,  and  there's  a  hundred  thou 
sand  pounds  deposited  in  the  Bank  of  England,  ready  to  be  paid 
over  to  me  so  soon  as  I  shall  apply  for  it.' 

"  *  And  why  did  you  not  apply  for  it  ?'  said  Peter,  still  speak 
ing,  entirely  off  his  guard. 

"  *  Ah  !  my  dear  fellow,'  said  the  captain,  clapping  his  hand  on 
the  Apostle's  back  (you  see  how  that  one  exclamation  of  our 
Peter  made  a  boon  companion  of  him,"  said  the  Gentleman  in 
Black,  parenthetically) ;  "  *  it  was  because  I  couldn't  exactly 
bring  out  the  answer.' 

"  And  the  idea  struck  the  captain  as  being  very  odd  that  the 
Apostle's  coat  felt  as  if  made  of  broadcloth,  and  he  thought  he  felt 
buttons  on  the  sleeve  as  he  laid  his  hand  on  his  arm,  while  mak 
ing  this  last  remark. 

"  '  Now,'  said  the  captain,  '  you  know  as  well  as  I  can  tell 
you,  for  I  suppose  two  and  two  make  four  in  heaven  just  the 
same  as  they  do  on  earth,  that  the  quadrature  and  rectification  of 
the  circle  are  problems  which  have  exercised  the  abilities  of  the 
most  eminent  mathematicians  in  all  ages,  and  that  if  the  ratio  of 
the  diameter  were  known,  <these  problems,  by  the  known  proper 
ties  of  the  circle,  would  become  very  simple.  Now  Archimedes 
found  the  perimeter  of  a  circumscribed  regular  polygon  of  192 
sides,  is  to  the  diameter  in  a  less  ratio  than  3j£  to  1,  and  that  the 
perimeter  of  an  inscribed  regular  polygon  of  96  sides,  is  to  the 
diameter  in  a  greater  ratio  than  3|^  to  1,  therefore,  he  inferred 
that  the  ratio  was  272,  which  is  certainly  very  near  the  truth  ;  but 
my  method  is  by  fluxions,  and  comes  almost  to  the  very  thing 
itself.' 

"  *  But  that  won't  do,'  said  Peter ;  '  a  miss  is   as  good   as  a 
mile.' 
10 


146  PETER  SCHLEMIHL. 

"  'Ah !  but  you  can  help  me  in  this  matter;  I'm  sure  of  it; 
and  I'll  give  you  half.' 

"  Peter  smiled  at  the  idea  of  being  bought  up  by  the  captain, 
who  now  took  from  his  desk  a  paper  on  which  his  calculations 
were  made  ;  but  before  the  captain  had  commenced  showing  him 
his  method  or  calculus,  Peter  candidly  confessed  '  that  he  could 
not  help  him,  for  he  knew  nothing  about  mathematics.' 

"  The  captain  was  very  greatly  disappointed,  and,  to  use  the  ex 
pressive  phrase  of  the  Scriptures,  '  his  face  became  changed'  to 
wards  Peter  from  that  time,  and  putting  up  his  papers,  he  went  on 
deck,  which  he  paced  for  an  hour  without  speaking  a  word  ;  but, 
doubtless,  like  the  celebrated  old  parrot  of  the  Irishman,  he  made 
up  for  what  he  did  not  say,  by  keeping  up  a  '  devil  of  a  think 
ing,'  the  effects  of  which  Peter  had  good  reason  to  apprehend. 

"  After  a  while,  he  went  forward  and  spoke  to  the  steward  ; 
'  Tom,  we  have  on  board  ship  a  strange  sort  of  a  saint.'  '  Yes, 
sir,'  said  Tom,  who  had  his  own  thoughts  upon  the  subject.  *  Do 
you  know  he  wears  a  broadcloth  coat  ?'  *  No,  sir.'  l  Well,  he 
does,  and  with  buttons  too.'  '  Yes,  sir.'  *  I  want  you  to  cut  off 
a  piece  of  his  coat-tail,  and  let  us  see  what  sort  of  cloth  it  is ; 
and  be  sure  you  cut  off  one  of  his  buttons  with  it.'  '  Yes,  sir.' 
And  Tom  did  as  he  was  ordered,  all  unconsciously  to  Peter. 

"  Now  I  may  not  have  told  you,"  continued  the  Gentleman  in 
Black,  "  that  so  soon  as  anything  is  separated  from  Peter's  per 
son,  it  becomes  visible.  The  steward  took  off  the  end  of  the 
skirt  with  a  button  attached,  and  brought  it  to  the  captain  as  he 
came  on  deck  after  dinner.  The  captain  examined  the  texture 
of  the  cloth,  which  was  a  fine  blue,  but  his  surprise  was  great 
ly  increased  by  the  button,  which,  on  being  examined  on  the 
inside,  had  stamped  on  it '  extra-fine,  treble-gilt.'  '  By  George !' 
exclaimed  the  captain,  '  who  would  have  thought  it?  I  supposed 
the  streets  were  paved  with  gold  where  he  came  from.  Hollo ! 
Kemble  !'  The  mate  came  on  deck.  '  Tell  me,  Kemble,  isn't 
it  said  somewhere  in  the  Bible  that  the  paving  stones  of  heaven 
are  all  of  gold?' 

"  '  Not  that  I  know  of — I  don't  remember  any  such  text.'  *  It 
must  be  there,'  replied  Captain  Weathersfield,  'for  I  couldn't  have 
dreamed  it;  and  certainly  it  runs  in  my  head  that  they  are  so.' 

"  '  I  guess  you  have  got  it  out  of  the  hymn-book,'  said  Kem 
ble,  '  for  it  was  a  favorite  hymn  of  my  childhood  to  sing  about 
Heaven  and  its  golden  streets.' 

"  '  It  may  be  so.     Can  you  remember  the  verse  ?' 

"  '  I'll  try,'  and  then  recited — 

"  'The  hill  of  Zion  yields  a  thousand  sacred  sweets, 

Before  we  reach  the  heavenly  fields,  or  walk  the  golden  streets.' 


NIGHT  AT  SEA.  147 

"  '  Yes,'  said  the  captain,  *  that  is  it.  I  thank  you,  Kemble,  I 
have  nothing  more  to  say,'  and  on  he  went  thinking.  '  After 
all,  the  priest  must  be  right,  for  if  they  wear  broadcloth  in  hea 
ven,  then  there  must  be  sheep,  and  weavers,  and  button-makers, 
and  tailors,'  and,  finally,  he  was  all  adrift,  as  he  afterwards  ac 
knowledged.  '  By  George  !'  he  exclaimed,  '  how  strange  !  Gilt 
buttons  in  heaven,  when  I  thought  there  was  no  guilt  there  of 
any  sort.' 

"Nor  was  this  the  only  instance  of  confidence  reposed  in  Pe 
ter  while  on  this  voyage.  One  fine  moonlight  night  he  went  on 
deck  about  midnight,  during  the  mate's  watch.  The  cresting  of 
the  waves,  the  glitter  of  the  stars,  and  the  calm  face  of  the  moon 
*  walking  in  brightness'  through  little  cloud-flakes,  which  were  fly 
ing  across  her  disk,  all  conspired  to  make  the  scene  one  of 
beauty,  and  to  inspire  sad  and  tender  thoughts  in  Peter's  mind. 
He  was  alone,  all  alone  in  the  world,  and  he  felt  deeply  the  force 
of  the  saying  of  Marmontel,  *  How  sad  it  is  to  behold  a  beautiful 
scene,  and  to  be  unable  to  say  to  some  one,  oh !  how  beautiful !' 

"  He  had  remarked,  during  the  voyage,  that  the  mate  wore  the 
aspect  of  one  of  a  higher  grade  of  society  than  the  captain  ;  that 
he  said  little  and  thought  much,  and  was  without  any  appetite  at 
table,  and  seemed  the  victim  of  a  profound  melancholy.  He  was 
standing  leaning  on  the  capstan,  and  had  stood  there  for  an  hour 
without  a  movement  of  any  sort.  *  A  fellow  feeling  makes  us 
wond'rous  kind,'  and  the  aspect  of  sorrow  gave  a  strange  interest 
to  Mr.  Kemble,  the  mate,  in  the  mind  of  Peter.  He  was  always 
courteous  at  the  table,  and  had  the  manners  of  a  gentleman. 
Though  Peter  had  determined  never  to  let  his  voice  be  heard,  yet, 
as  he  had  spoken  to  the  captain,  why  should  he  not  speak  to  the 
mate  ?  He  felt  that  it  would  be  an  act  of  kindness  to  do  so ; 
perhaps  the  mate  wanted  sympathy ;  if  so,  who  had  a  heart  like 
his,  in  which  all  the  deep  fountains  were  welling  up,  longing  for 
objects  on  which  they  could  be  exhausted?  Prompted  by  such 
sentiments,  Peter  came  down  from  the  taffrail,  where  he  had  been 
sitting,  and  going  towards  the  mate,  he  said  to  him, 

"  *  Master  mate,  the  beautiful  stars  which  are  shining  on  you, 
should  win  your  eyes  to  gaze  at  them.' 

"  The  mate,  surprised,  looked  up,  and  seeing  no  one,  exclaimed, 
4  Who  spoke  ?'  There  was  no  reply :  after  waiting  a  few  se 
conds,  he  asked, 

"  *  Have  I  the  honor  of  addressing  the  Apostle  Peter  ?'  taking 
off  his  hat  and  bowing.  Our  Peter  was  silent ;  he  did  not  like  to 
avow  that  he  was  St.  Peter,  and  feared  to  disavow  the  distinguished 
honor  which  had  been  conferred  upon  him  by  common  consent 
of  all  on  board.  Finding  no  answer,  Mr.  Kemble  said, 


148  PETER  SCHLEMIHL. 

"  '  I  believe  I  heard  the  voice  of  some  one.  It  must  have  come 
from  our  spiritual  guest,  and  whether  you  are  a  saint  or  satan,  you 
can  resolve  for  me  some  questionings  of  my  soul,  respecting  which 
my  mind  is  in  a  whirl  of  doubt,  almost  to  frenzy.  Will  you  be 
pleased  to  do  so  ?' 

"  Peter  replied,  with  tones  of  earnest  sympathy,  *  It  may  not 
be  in  my  power  to  reply  to  the  inquiries  you  may  make  of  me, 
but  if  it  is,  I  assure  you  that  it  will  give  me  much  pleasure  to  do 
so.  One  thing  I  can  promise  you  :  if  you  are  in  sorrow  of  any 
sort,  you  have  my  warmest  sympathy.' 

"  4 1  am  well  aware,'  replied  the  mate,  'that  it  may  not  be  in 
your  power  to  tell  me  of  the  conditions  of  a  spiritual  world.  The 
relations  of  a  life  separated  from  all  the  objects  of  sense  may  have 
no  fitting  vehicles  of  thought,  but  you  can  tell  me  if  the  creature 
of  yesterday  lives  forever.  This  is  the  great  enigma  I  wish  solved. 
Is  there  a  future  for  man?' 

"  *  The  highest  of  all  evidence  is  consciousness?  replied  Peter. 
'  Do  you  not  possess  this  ?  Do  you  not  feel  that  you  are  destined 
to  live  forever?' 

'*  '  Oh,  do  not  ask  me  to  resolve  a  question  of  this  sort,1  said 
Mr.  Kemble  ;  '  but  tell  me  truly,  am  I  a  worm  of  the  dust,  an  in 
habitant  of  a  world,  a  mere  speck  in  this  wide  universe,  an  object 
of  God's  care  ;  a  being  destined  to  immortality  ?' 

**  '  You  are,'  said  Peter.  '  To  God  there's  nothing  great,  there's 
nothing  little.  The  sun  shone  as  brightly  to  enlighten  one  man 
as  it  now  shines  on  millions.  The  providence  of  God  is  as  truly 
exerted  over  your  destinies,  and  you  are  the  object  of  as  exclusive 
care  as  you  would  have  been  had  no  other  creature  existed  to  ab 
sorb  the  regard  and  love  of  the  great  Creator.  Such  is  the  cha 
racter  and  conduct  of  God  toward  his  creatures.' 

"  '  Alas  !  how  impossible  it  is  to  realize  this,'  replied  the  mate  ; 
*  I  see  so  many  anomalies  in  the  condition  of  the  world ;  so 
much  of  misery  in  man  and  animals,  that  I  am  at  times  full  of 
dark  surmises  which  lead  me  to  skepticism  and  despair.' 

"  '  My  young  friend,'  said  Peter,  4  believe  me  'tis  perilous  to 
trust  to  the  teachings  of  unassisted  reason.  There  is  but  one 
safe  guide  through  these  labyrinths  of  doubt.  God  has  given  you 
a  sure  word  of  prophecy.  God  is  light — and  in  His  light,  you 
shall  see  light.  As  to  divine  matters,  my  dear  Mr.  Kemble, 
the  senses  are  like  the  sun,  which  displays  the  face  of  the  earth, 
but  shuts  up  that  of  the  Heavens."* 

"  '  But,  reverend  sir,'  replied  the  mate,  *  how  various  are  the 
opinions  entertained  on  these  subjects,  even  among  those  best  in- 

*  Lord  Bacon,  "  De  jHugmentis  Scientiarum." 


COLLOQUY  WITH  THE  MATE.  149 

formed.  And  among  such  a  conflict  of  religions,  which  am  I  to 
adopt?' 

"  Peter  replied  with  emphasis,  'It  is  true,  there  are  a  vast  va 
riety  of  opinions,  but  there  are  but  two  religions  in  all  the 
world.' 

"  *  But  two  !'  exclaimed  Kemble;  '  I  thought  there  were  hun 
dreds.' 

" '  There  are  but  two,'  replied  Peter,  in  the  same  expressive 
tones  of  voice,  *  the  subjective,  and  the  objective,  to  use  philoso 
phical  terms,  or  in  other  and  better  words — the  religion  of  faith, 
and  the  religion  of  forms.' 

"  *  But  what  do  you  call  the  religion  of  faith?'  asked  the  mate. 

"  '  The  religion  of  faith  is  best  expressed  in  the  expiring  cry  of 
an  English  martyr,  "  None  but  Christ ! — none  but  Christ  !"*  The 
religion  of  forms  is  known  in  all  its  varieties,  by  presenting  as 
the  object  of  highest  veneration  rites  or  ceremonies,  and  in  effect 
saying  "  anything  but  Christ !  Everything  but  Christ !"  Do 
you  comprehend  me  ?' 

"  '  Yes,  sir,'  replied  the  mate,  '  I  think  I  do.  My  mother  taught 
me  so ;  but  how  hard  it  is  to  believe  that  man,  an  inhabitant  of 
a  world  which  is  but  as  a  speck  in  our  universe — which  may  be, 
in  itself,  but  as  a  grain  of  sand  on  the  vast  shores  of  creation, 
can  have  been  so  distinguished  as  to  have  been  redeemed  by  the 
death  of  Christ,  the  Creator  of  the  race  for  whom  He  died.  This 
thought  overwhelms  me  in  a  sea  of  doubt.' 

"  *  How  strange,'  replied  Peter,  '  that  men  make  themselves  so 
utterly  insignificant,  that  they  may  have  a  show  of  reason  for 
discrediting  the  word  of  God.  Who  can  conceive  the  dignity 
and  value  of  a  creature  created  in  the  image  of  God  ?' 

"'I  do  not  presume  to  reply,'  replied  the  mate,  'but  I  would 
like  to  know  if  I  may  ask  the  question  where  is  God?' 

"  The  Apostle  replied — '  Of  God  it  has  been  said — "  His  centre 
is  everywhere,  His  circumference  nowhere" — Do  you  compre 
hend  this  ?' 

"  '  I  have  heard  this  definition  before,'  replied  the  mate,  '  and 
thought  it  was  felicitous  and  forcible.' 

"  '  It  is,'  answered  Peter,  '  and  I  want  you  to  go  a  step  beyond 
this.  Every  creature,  whether  an  ant  or  an  angel,  is  the  radiat 
ing  centre  of  God,  for  whom  and  to  whom  the  entire  universe 
ministers,  as  fully  and  entirely,  as  though  it  had  been  created  and 
was  sustained  for  the  sake  of  that  insect  or  angel  alone.  God 
has  thus  identified  himself  with  His  creatures,  for  their  happiness 
and  protection.  They  live  because  He  lives.  And  every  lash 
inflicted  upon  an  ill-fed,  weary  and  overtasked  animal,  is  an  act 

*  This  was  the  dying  cry  of  John  Lambert,  burnt  at  Smithfield, 


150  PETER  SCHLEMIHL. 

of  cruelty  with  which  the  Creator  profoundly  sympathizes  and 
will  fearfully  avenge.  Would  that  this  truth  was  brought  home 
to  the  business  and  bosoms  of  men  !' ': 

Mrs.  Smith  here  broke  in  upon  the  narrative  of  the  Gentleman 
in  Black,  by  saying — "  I  wish  from  my  heart  it  was  !  The  wretch 
ed  horses  who  drag  our  omnibuses  should  petition  the  clergy  to 
give  this  subject  the  prominence  it  so  well  deserves,  and  holds 
in  the  mind  of  Peter  Schlemihl.  How  much  better  it  would  be  to 
make  men  feel  the  force  of  the  claims  of  animals,  than  to  build 
up  opinions  which  have  no  bearing  on  their  conduct." 

"  Pardon  me,  madam,"  replied  the  Gentleman  in  Black,  "  it  is 
a  philosophical  as  well  as  a  scriptural  truth,  that  men  entertain  no 
opinion  which  does  not  make  them  what  they  are  : — '  as  a  man 
thinketh  so  is  he!'  " 

"  Forgive  my  interruption,"  said  Mrs.  Smith;  "please  go  on. 
What  did  the  mate  say  to  Peter  ?" 

"  He  asked,  '  Does  not  this  lead  to  Pantheism?1 

"  '  No,'  replied  Peter,  '  far  from  it !  It  is  "  the  glorious  gospel 
of  the  Blessed  God;"  which  teaches  us  that  Christ  Jesus  "is  all 
and  in  all" — that  "  all  things  were  created  by  him  and  for  him, 
and  in  him  all  things  subsist" — and  do  you  call  this  pantheism?' 
continued  Peter. 

"  *  Alas  !'  replied  the  mate,  '  1  am  utterly  bewildered  and  lost. 
I  cannot  comprehend  it.' 

" 4  No,  my  dear  friend,'  continued  Peter,  '  like  most  men,  you 
raise  the  telescope  to  the  heavens  to  gain  some  feeble  conception 
of  God's  majesty  and  might,  and  then  reverse  the  telescope  to 
make  man  more  insignificant  than  he  really  is.  His  soul  was 
designed  for  the  Temple  of  God,  and  it  is  his  high  destiny  to 
dwell  with  God  ;  to  be  changed  from  glory  to  glory,  in  endless 
progression,  ever  approaching  and  never  reaching  the  attainment 
of  those  perfections,  in  which  he  will  delight,  and  to  which  he 
is  ever  more  and  more  to  assimilate.  The  finite  can  never  com 
prehend  the  infinite,  and  with  enlarged  powers  of  apprehension, 
new  discoveries  will  be  made  of  the  wisdom  of  his  Creator,  and 
of  the  heights  and  depths  of  the  mystery  of  mysteries,  the  re 
demption  and  sanctification  of  his  own  soul.  This  greatest  and 
grandest  of  all  the  manifestations  of  the  mercy  of  God,  which 
angels  desire  to  look  into,  will  be  in  heaven  a  greater  mystery 
than  it  is  on  earth,  for  there  it  will  be  more  fully  developed  and 
more  perfectly  realized.  To  be  an  angel  is  indeed  a  glorious 
destiny,  but  to  be  a  man,  redeemed,  regenerated,  and  disenthralled 
by  the  blood  of  Christ,  and  the  Spirit  of  God,  will  never  cease  to 
inspire  the  supremest  wonder,  and  to  excite  in  the  soul  the  highest 
and  noblest  expressions  of  gratitude  and  adoration.' 


STORY  OF  THE  MATE'S  FIRST  LOVE.  151 

"  '  Yes,'  replied  the  mate,  *  such  were  the  teachings  of  my 
pious  mother  :  and  my  soul  has  sometimes  found  safe  anchorage 
in  a  sea  of  doubt,  when  such  views  of  the  destiny  of  man  have 
been,  to  some  extent,  realized.  Alas !  with  my  loss  of  confi 
dence  in  woman,  I  have  lost  my  hope  in  God.' 

"  '  You  are  young,  my  dear  Mr.  Kemble,'  said  Peter,  '  to  talk 
so  wildly.  Will  you  not  tell  me  the  cause  of  such  deep  despair  ? 
You  have  but  begun  to  live,  and  all  is  bright  to  one  not  yet  twen 
ty-two  years  of  age.'  , 

"  '  Reverend  sir,'  replied  the  mate,  *  may  I  ask,  do  you  still  re 
tain  your  sympathies  in  the  affairs  of  men  ?' 

"  '  Most  deeply  and  truly,'  replied  our  Peter. 

"  '  Then  you  will  bear  with  me,  if  I  tell  you  of  trials  which 
may  to  you  appear  trivial,  and  which,  I  trust,  you  may  have  never 
known,  for  the  woman  you  once  possessed  as  a  wife  is  now  an 
angel  in  light.' 

"  Peter  replied  with  earnestness — '  She  was,  indeed,  an  angel 
of  goodness,  gentleness,  and  loveliness  ;  long  since  taken  from 
earth  to  the  open  vision  of  her  God  and  Saviour,  there  to  burn 
arid  brighten  with  the  souls  of  the  redeemed  in  light  forever  and 
ever.' 

"  Mr.  Kemble,  sighing  deeply,  continued — '  Oh  !  how  great  a 
mercy  to  know  that  heaven  contains  the  loved  ones  of  earth — 
that  they  are  "not lost,  but  gone  before,"  awaiting  our  coming,  and 
perhaps,  aiding  us  in  our  weary  journey  of  life.  I  will  tell  you 
my  story.  My  tale  is  no  novelty  in  the  experience  of  men ;  I 
have  the  fortune  to  be  a  fool,  and  what  is  rare,  I  know  it,  and 
with  the  abiding  conviction  that  the  angel  form  I  once  loved  and 
still  love,  covers  a  heart  of  stone,  and,  contrary  to  every  motive 
and  dictate  of  my  understanding,  I  love  her  to  frenzy.  Is  not 
this  being  possessed  of  the  devil?' 

"  The  Apostle  replied,  '  It  is,  in  truth,  very  like  it.' 

"  The  mate  went  on — '  She  was  a  young  girl,  when  we  first 
met,  but  oh,  how  graceful  and  attractive  were  all  her  looks  ! 

"  *  A  number  of  my  young  friends  formed  a  Thespian  Club,  of 
which  I  was  the  master  spirit.  To  me  was  assigned  to  play  the 
parts  of  Richard,  and  Hamlet,  and  Shylock,  and  we  were  much 
courted  and  caressed  by  the  girls,  for  they  all  wanted  to  be  pre 
sent  at  our  performances,  which  were  private,  and  our  tickets  ne 
cessarily  limited.  Among  the  number  who  came  was  this  young 
girl,  invited  by  my  dearest  friend,  by  whom  I  was  introduced  to 
her,  and  my  admiration  was  instantaneous  and  all  absorbing — she 
realized  all  the  creations  of  my  fancy — and  I  lived  only  to  think 
and  dream  of  her.  To  my  inconceivable  pain,  I  saw  that  my 
friend  was  preferred  before  me.  I  asked  him  "  if  he  loved  her." 


152  PETER  SCHLEMIHL. 

He  replied  with  an  air  of  surprise,  "  No,  truly,  she  is  a  mere  child ; 
she  has  no  soul."  I  said  to  him,  "  I  do ;"  he  remonstrated  with 
me,  telling  me  my  affections  would  certainly  be  misplaced.  I 
begged  him  to  keep  out  of  my  way,  which  he  did  effectually, 
for  he  soon  after  removed  with  his  mother  and  family  to  the 
southern  states.  When  he  left,  I  found  it  an  easy  task  to  take 
his  place.  She  needed  admiration,  and  she  had  it  to  an  immea 
surable  extent  from  me  ;  and  after  some  months  of  devoted  atten 
tion  on  my  part,  I  received  from  her  the  fullest  assurances  of  her 
affection  ;  and  secure  of  these,  I  was  rich  indeed.  It  then  be 
came  necessary  for  me  to  adopt  a  profession  which  should  give 
me  the  means  of  providing  for  her,  and  assuming  the  relations  of 
married  life.  My  friends  offered  me  employment  with  fair  pros 
pects  of  promotion,  and  I  went  out  to  Calcutta,  to  acquire  the 
necessary  practical  knowledge  of  a  sailor.  At  our  parting,  I  pain 
fully  felt  her  love  for  me  was  far  less  than  mine  for  her,  but  I  was 
made  happy  by  the  fondness  she  manifested  towards  me  on  my 
return,  and  which  I  now  have  reason  to  believe  was  inspired  by 
some  articles  of  taste  and  personal  decoration,  which  I  brought 
her  as  a  present.  She  wore  them  gracefully,  and  I  was  happy, 
thinking  all  the  while  it  was  because  they  were  my  gifts.  After 
remaining  at  home  about  three  months,  I  sailed  as  mate  on  board 
the  same  ship  bound  for  Canton.  Our  parting  was  passionate 
on  my  part,  and  full  of  fondness  on  hers.  "  On  your  return,"  she 
said,  "  we  will  be  married."  There  are  no  sweeter  words  a  woman 
can  whisper  to  a  parting  sailor !  I  wish  they  had  been  the  last 
she  uttered,  but  calling  me  back,  as  she  said,  "  to  give  me  one  more 
kiss,"  she  whispered  in  my  ear,  "don't  forget  my  crimson  Canton 
crape  shawl !"  Well,  I  strove  to  forget  this,  and  only  to  remem 
ber  what  gratified  my  wishes  and  sustained  my  hopes  :  and  I 
succeeded,  for  ive  can  believe  what  we  anxiously  desire. 

"  '  I  was  gone,'  continued  Mr.  Kemble,  *  a  little  more  than  a 
year.  During  this  time,  my  syren  made  a  visit  to  a  neighboring 
town,  where  was  a  post  of  our  army.  Among  the  well-dressed 
young  officers  was  one,  who  was  attracted  by  the  beauty  of  my 
affianced  wife,  and  on  my  return  home,  the  aspect  of  my  mother 
warned  me  of  some  dreadful  tidings.  I  asked,  "  Is  she  dead  ?" 
"No,  my  child,  worse  than  that;  she  is  married !" 

"  '  All  these  events  are  very  common — quite  every  day  occur 
rences,  and  I  tried  to  be  very  calm  and  contented ;  but,  sir,  there 
is  no  rest  for  me.  I  have  every  motive  to  live.  I  have  an  aged 
mother  to  support,  my  fortunes  are  bright,  but  the  iron  has  en 
tered  my  soul,  and  I  long  for  death  more  devoutly  than  most  men 
desire  life.  I  dread  to  die  a  maniac,  and  would  be  glad  to  be  re 
lieved  the  weary  task  of  contending  with  my  tendencies  to  a  vio- 


THE  CAPTAIN'S  COGITATIONS.  153 

lent  death.'  The  Apostle  urged  his  young  friend  to  better  hopes, 
and  a  higher  destiny.  He  exclaimed,  '  Yes,  I  do  hope  for  peace 
and  purity  in  heaven.  The  prayers  of  my  mother  still  follow 
me  ;  and  there  are  gleams  of  hope,  when  I  think  I  am  but  being 
trained  up  for  a  future  existence ;  but,  sir,  'tis  hard  to  see  all  the 
beautiful  creations  of  hope  darkened  down  to  naked  waste  and 
flat  despair.'  The  Apostle  could  not  reply,  for  the  watch  com 
ing  up,  notified  the  male,  it  was  time  for  them  to  call  the  captain's 
watch  and  '  to  turn  in,'  and  so  shaking  the  mate  affectionately  by 
the  hand,  they  separated. 

"  For  some  days  the  meals  were  taken  in  silence ;  the  captain  had 
his  own  thoughts,  and  the  priest  and  mate  were  absorbed  by  their 
own  reflections.  Peter  was  permitted  to  eat  his  food  undisturbed. 
After  dinner,  as  Peter  was  standing  near  the  priest,  on  the  quar 
ter  deck,  the  captain  broke  the  silence  which  he  had  observed  for 
so  long  a  time,  by  asking  the  priest, 

"  *  Do  you  believe  there  are  manufacturers  of  broadcloth  in  the 
other  world  ?' 

"  The  priest  surprised  said,  '  He  did  not  believe  there  was.' 

"  '  Well,  sir,'  said  the  captain,  '  I  am  sure  of  it.' 

" '  How  is  it,  captain,  you  have  changed  your  opinions  so  en 
tirely  ? — My  belief  only  extends  to  the  perpetuity  of  our  pas 
sions,  and  the  development  of  the  prevailing  loves.' 

"  '  You  are  in  the  dark,  then — I  can  prove  to  you  that  there  are 
sheep,  of  course  grass  on  which  they  feed ;  hills  and  dales  in 
which  the  grass  grows  ;  an  atmosphere  to  feed  the  grass  with 
showers ;  a  sun  to  warm  it  into  life ;  mines  to  furnish  the  shears 
to  cut  the  wool;  cards  to  card  it,  and  spinning  jennies  and  looms 
to  weave  it  into  cloth ;  tailors  to  cut  it,  and  to  make  it  up ;  and 
in  fact,  all  the  conditions  of  society  as  it  exists  in  this  world.' 

" '  Upon  my  soul,  captain,  you  surprise  me,'  replied  the  priest; 
*  and  have  you  been  all  these  days  in  a  brown  study  to  come  to 
these  results?' 

"  '  You  have  hit  it  exactly !  and  here  is  the  proof  of  all  I  have 
said,'  producing  the  piece  of  Peter's  coat,  with  the  button  on  it, 
which  Peter  for  the  first  time  discovered  had  been  shortened  by 
some  four  inches. 

"  '  Here,'  said  the  captain,  '  is  the  Apostle's  coat-tail,  cut  off 
by  the  steward,'  handing  the  piece  of  cloth  to  the  astonished 
priest.  '  Look,'  said  the  captain,  'see,  gold  is  not  so  plenty  as  I 
had  supposed  it  was — extra-fine  treble  gilt.1 " 

"  The  priest  was  speechless,  as  he  saw  these  mystical  charac 
ters  on  the  reverse  side  of  the  brass  button.  The  captain  then, 
like  another  Cuvier,  commenced  showing  from  the  single  button 
and  piece  of  cloth,  how  wide  was  the  range  of  '  correspondences' 


154  PETER  SCHLEMIHL. 

between  the  invisible  world  and  the  present,  to  produce  that  sin 
gle  pattern  and  the  button  ;  but  I  will  leave  you,  my  dear  madam, 
to  follow  out  his  course  of  cogitation  in  your  own  way.  The 
priest  was  graveled.  He  did  not  know  what  to  answer,  content 
ing  himself  with  saying,  '  that  there  were  doubtless  many  things 
in  heaven,  as  well  as  in  earth,  not  yet  developed  even  in  the  re 
velations  of  Swedenborg.' 

"  You  are  aware  that  Peter,  as  Chamisso  states,  wore  over  his 
famous  seven-league  boots,  a  cover  of  felt  which  made  his  steps 
noiseless,  and  which  took  from  them  the  spring  which  carried 
him  so  great  a  distance  at  every  step.  He,  therefore,  was  un 
heard  in  his  movements,  and  overheard  this  conversation  which 
was  carried  on  in  a  low  and  confidential  whisper. 

"  The  priest  had  been  for  some  days  busily  occupied  with  an 
examination  of  his  trunks  of  books,  and  Peter  feared  he  was  des 
tined  to  an  attack  in  a  new  quarter ;  and  so  it  was,  for  after  supper 
on  the  same  day  of  this  communication  by  the  captain,  he  ad 
dressed  the  Apostle  in  the  blandest  tones,  and  spoke  of  the  great 
controversy  which  had  so  divided  the  Christian  world,  in  relation 
to  Peter's  own  self;  and  thinking  Peter  might  have  been  too  fully 
occupied  at  the  gate  of  Paradise  with  his  keys,  and  perhaps  from 
a  harmless  vanity,  he  told  him,  what  'tis  certain  he  never  knew 
before,  of  the  various  views  entertained  on  the  question,  whether 
after  all,  he,  Peter,  had  ever  been  at  Rome ;  for,  said  he,  '  your 
office  as  an  Apostle,  seems  to  render  it  impossible  for  you  to  have 
been  the  first  Bishop  of  Rome,  and  to  have  resided  there,  as  is 
contended,  as  its  first  bishop  for  a  quarter  of  a  century,  because,  to 
have  become  so,  you  would  have  ceased  to  have  been  an  Apostle, 
which  necessarily  required  you  to  go  from  country  to  country. 
We  read,  too,  of  you  at  Jerusalem,  and  at  Antioch,  at  which 
place  some  of  the  fathers  say,  you  resided  seven  years,  and  at 
Babylon  and  Corinth,  but  we  never  hear  of  you  at  Rome,  and 
Paul,  though  he  wrote  so  many  of  his  Epistles  from  Rome,  and 
one  to  Rome,  never  speaks  of  you  in  his  numerous  salutations. 
So  that  I  have  doubted  if  you  ever  were  at  Rome.  But  the  im 
portant  question  I  have  to  submit  to  you,  is  as  to  your  primacy 
in  the  Apostleship.  Now,  I  deem  this  to  rest  solely  on  that 
vivacity  of  temper,  which,  Eusebius  says,  "  made  you  the  pro 
locutor  of  the  other  Apostles,"  or  it  may  have  been  because,  in 
Luke  vi.  14,  you  are  first  in  the  list  of  the  disciples  of  whom 
'tis  said,  "he  chose  twelve  and  called  them  Apostles,  Simon  whom 
he  called  Peter,  &c.,"  and  this  is  noticed  by  St.  Cyprian ;  but  others 
again  have  supposed  it  was  because  you  were  a  married  man,  and 
consequently  had  made  greater  sacrifices  than  others.' 

"  The  captain,  who  was  listening  very  attentively,  here  inter- 


PRIMACY  OF  ST.  PETER.  155 

rupted  the  priest,  and  said,  '  If  he  was  the  only  married  man 
amongst  them,  that  was  a  sufficient  reason.  It  seems  to  me,' 
continued  he,  turning  to  the  Apostle,  *  that  in  writing  your  epis 
tles,  you  have  said  nothing  about  the  duty  of  ship  owners  to 
masters  of  vessels  ?' 

"  The  priest  looked  his  surprise,  and  our  Apostle  taking  the 
Bible,  opened  to  the  text,  which  he  marked  with  his  pencil — 'No 
scripture  is  of  any  private  interpretation — ' 

" '  That's  all  very  well,  so  far  as  it  goes,'  replied  the  captain ; 
1  but  that's  not  explicit,  and  to  the  point.  Now  I'll  show  you — 
my  wife  wanted  to  go  to  sea  with  me,  for  though  we've  been 
married  ten  years,  I've  not  slept  in  my  own  bed,  but  just  forty- 
four  weeks  and  five  nights  of  all  that  time ;  she  didn't  like  it,  no 
more  did  I ;  so  I  told  my  owners  I  desired  to  take  my  wife  along 
with  me  for  the  voyage ;  but  though  they  are  deacons  in  the 
church,  godly  men  as  need  be,  they  refused  their  consent,  and 
said,  "  they  would  not  let  me  make  a  baby-house  of  their  ship  ;" 
well,  I  was  hard  put  to  it,  and  so  I  quoted  the  Bible  at  them,  and 
told  'em  it  was  written,  "Those  whom  God  hath  joined  together, 
let  no  man  put  asunder."  And  what  do  you  think  they  said  to 
this  ?  Why,  they  laughed  in  my  face,  and  said,  "  they  didn't 
come  to  me  to  interpret  the  Bible  for  them,  but  to  sail  their  ship." 
Now,  how  easy  it  would  have  been  for  you  to  have  put  in  a  lit 
tle  verse  like  this  into  your  general  epistle — **  As  concerning  ship 
owners,  I  ordain  that  they  make  all  due  provision  to  such  of  their 
captain's  wives  as  will  go  with  them  on  their  voyages  over  the 
great  deep."  Then  the  thing  would  have  been  settled:  but  we  poor 
sailors,'  said  the  captain,  with  great  emphasis,  and  a  thump  on 
the  table,  '  were  never  so  much  as  thought  of  in  those  days  1' 
at  the  same  time  looking  drawn  daggers  at  the  Apostle's  chair. 

"  Peter  with  difficulty  restrained  his  inclination  to  laugh,  and  the 
priest,  finding  the  captain  had  got  through,  went  on  to  say, 

".'Jerome  supposes  it  was  because  you  were  first  in  age,  and 
he  replies  to  the  question,  "  Why  was  not  St.  John  elected,  being 
a  bachelor  ?  because  Peter  was  elder;  that  a  youth,  almost  a  boy,* 
might  not  be  preferred  before  men  of  good  age,"  though  Epipha- 
nius  affirms  that  Andrew  was  your  elder.  There  is  another 
reason  which,  to  my  mind,  is  yet  stronger,  and  that  is,  that  your 
name  in  all  the  lists  of  the  Apostles  stands  first.  It  is  upon  such 
grounds,  and  others  worth  as  much  and  no  more  than  these,  that 
Romanists  claim  for  you  the  primacy  over  the  apostles  and  the 
church  universal.  And  I  have  thought  it  strange,  if  it  had  been 
so,  that  any  such  contest  should  have  arisen  among  you  as  is 

*  St.  John  is  so  represented  in  the  window  of  Trinity  Church,  New  York. 


156  PETER  SCHLEMIHL. 

recorded  in  Luke  xxii.  verse  14,  as  to  who  should  he  greatest: 
and,  that  James  and  John,  too,  should  have  made  the  request  they 
did,  to  sit  next  the  Saviour,  an  honor  to  which  ST.  CHRYSOSTOM 
says — "  it  was  a  clear  case  that  St.  Paul  should  obtain  the  prefer 
ence."  I  beg  you  to  understand  me  as  expressing  no  opinion  in 
this  matter,  but  merely  as  quoting  so  distinguished  a  father,  and  as 
bearing  on  the  question  of  your  supremacy.  And  it  has  also  been 
deemed  doubtful,  in  my  mind,  whether  any  such  distinction  was 
ever  conferred,  from  the  conduct  of  our  Lord  in  placing  a  little 
child  in  the  seat  of  honor,  and  saying,  "Whosoever  shall  humble 
himself  as  a  little  child,  shall  be  the  greatest  in  the  kingdom  of 
heaven," — a  phrase  which,  doubtless,  had  reference  to  his  reign 
on  earth,  and  not  his  kingdom  in  heaven.  Indeed,  that  distin 
guished  scholar,  George  Campbell, translates  this  phrase — "The 
reign  of  God."  But  I  am  confirmed  in  my  impressions  in  this 
matter,  by  the  censure  of  our  Lord  to  those  who  sought  the  title  of 
Rabbi,  in  Matthew  xxiii.  8;  and  upon  this  text  St.  Chrysostom 
remarks,  "  We  were  designed  to  teach  the  word,  and  not  to  exer 
cise  empire:  we  do  but  rank  as  advisers,  exhorting  to  duty." 

"  '  In  connection,  venerable  father,'  said  the  priest,  *  with  this 
question  of  your  primacy,  is  another  monstrous  assumption  over 
the  consciences  of  men,  and  which  has  caused  great  misery  and 
bloodshed  since  the  days  of  your  apostleship,  and  still  is  held  by 
those  churches  who  rely  on  an  unbroken  line  of  apostolical  suc 
cession,  and  which  they  claim  to  be  the  essential  to  all  public 
acts  of  Christian  worship.  This  claim  is  not  peculiar  to  the 
Romish  church.  The  Anglican  church,  on  both  sides  of  the  At 
lantic,  prefer  the  same  claims,  under  the  sanction  of  your  great 
name.  Dr.  Seabury,  in  the  Churchman,  has  said,  "  A  ministry  of 
the  apostolical  succession,  empowered  to  act  as  Christ's  ambas 
sadors,  and  representing  him  on  earth ;  the  divinely  appointed 
limitation  of  the  blessings  of  salvation  and  the  gifts  of  the  Holy 
Spirit  to  communion  with  this  ministry,  in  the  sacraments, 
laws,  and  ordinances  of  the  church ;  regenerated  in  baptism, 
the  supreme  authority  of  the  Scripture,  as  explained  and  inter 
preted  by  the  church; — these  are  our  principles,  which  are  plainly 
written  in  our  prayer  book,  and  on  them  we  stand."  And,  sir, 
this  is  no  new  position.  Bishop  Sherlock,  in  his  Vindication  of 
Dr.  Stillingfleet,  (p.  389,)  says,  "  Whoever  separates  himself  from 
the  Church  of  England,  cuts  himself  off  from  the  Catholic  church, 
and  puts  himself  out  of  a  state  of  salvation.  Separation  from  the 
church  is  a  schism,  and  a  schism  is  as  damning  a  sin  as  idolatry, 
drunkenness,  or  adultery  ;"  and  so  Bishop  Taylor,  speaking  of 
the  necessity  of  apostolical  succession  of  bishops  to  make  ordina 
tions  valid,  says — "  Without  this,  no  priest,  no  ordination,  no 


APOSTOLICAL  SUCCESSION.  157 

consecration  of  the  sacrament,  no  absolution,  no  rite  or  sacrament 
legitimately  can  be  performed."  And  also,  Dodwell,  in  his  work, 
"One  Altar  and  one  Priesthood,"  says,  "None  but  the  bishop 
can  unite  us  to  the  Father  and  the  Son.  Whence  it  will  further 
follow,  that  whosoever  are  disunited  from  the  visible  communion 
of  the  church  on  earth,  and  particularly  from  that  visible  com 
munion  of  the  bishop,  must  consequently  be  disunited  from  the 
whole  Catholic  Church  on  earth,  and  not  only  so,  but  from  the 
invisible  communion  of  the  holy  angels  and  saints  in  heaven  ; 
and  which  is  yet  more,  from  Christ  and  God  himself.  It  is  one 
of  the  most  dreadful  aggravations  of  the  condition  of  the 
damned,  that  they  are  banished  from  the  presence  of  the  Lord 
and  the  glory  of  his  power.  The  same  is  their  condition  also 
who  are  disunited  from  Christ,  by  being  disunited  from  his  visible 
representative."  Such,  venerable  sir,  are  the  claims  of  your  suc 
cessors  in  the  nineteenth  century.  Such  the  unblushing  audacity 
of  men  who  would  render  salvation  impossible  to  all  who  have 
not  come  under  their  domination — who  thank  God  that  baptism 
is  regeneration,  by  which  an  infant"  becomes  a  member  of  Christ, 
a  child  of  God,  and  an  inheritor  of  the  kingdom  of  heaven."*  You 
are  aware,  sir,  as  a  follower  of  Swedenborg,  I  deny  this  doctrine 
of  baptismal  regeneration,  and  repudiate  the  great  dogma  of  the 
Reformation,  of  "justification  by  faith;"  still,  sir,  it  is  a  matter 
of  moment,  in  presenting  this  great  subject  for  your  solemn  and 
final  decision,  to  state  the  present  condition  of  this  great  contro 
versy,  and  to  show  you  how  nearly  a  Protestant  Episcopal 
Church  may  become  re-united  to  its  Papistical  parent.  Doctor 
Hook,  of  Leeds,  says  of  the  prelates  of  the  English  Church,  that 
they  are  "  validly  ordained  by  those  who,  by  means  of  an  un 
broken  spiritual  descent  of  ordination,  derived  their  mission  from 
the  apostles  and  from  our  Lord."  *  *  *  "Our  ordinations,"  he 
continues, "  descend  in  a  direct  unbroken  line  from  Peter  and 
Paul."  Now,  sir,  I  beg  leave  to  say,  in  the  presence  of  Captain 
Weathersfield  and  Mr.  Kemble,  that  by  your  personal  testi 
mony  only,  now  to  be  given  or  withheld,  can  such  succession  be 
made  out?  On  this  subject  I  wish  to  say  a  very  few  words 
more.  The  early  chronicles  of  the  church  on  this  subject  are 
full  of  confusion.  Dean  Prideaux,  a  learned  episcopal  writer, 
speaking  of  this  claim  of  apostolical  succession,  says  of  it,  "  No 
certainty  is  to  be  had."  Howell,  another  writer  of  the  same 
church,  after  a  laborious  examination,  calls  it — "  the  stupidity  and 
fables  of  Romanists,"  and  Platina,  the  Roman  Catholic  biographer 

*  Bishop  Brownell's  charge,  "  Errors  of  the  Times,"  delivered  June  13,  1843, 
says  on  this  subject,  "The  change  of  state,  effected  in  baptism,  is  called  in 
Scripture,  and  in  the  language  of  the  baptismal  office,  regeneration" 


158  PETER  SCHLEMIHL. 

of  the  popes,  as  cited  by  Prideaux,  says,  "  that  they  who  were 
appointed  prothonotaries,  to  register  the  passages  in  the  church, 
were,  in  his  time,  become  so  illiterate,  that  some  of  them  could 
scarce  write  their  own  names,"  and  complains  of  "  the  neglect  of 
registering,  and  the  confusion  of  the  lives  of  the  popes."  Nor  is 
this  all,  sir ;  your  successors  were  often  elected  "  by  intrigue,  con 
tention,  violence,  bribery  and  bloodshed."  ' 

"'By  George,'  exclaimed  the  captain,  whose  looks  were  full 
of  the  subject,  glancing  at  Peter,  'he  goes  it,  like  a  thousand  of 
brick.' 

"  The  priest's  smile  showed  how  much  this  encouraged  him  in 
his  assault. 

"  'I  have  made  no  assertions  not  sustained  by  the  highest  au 
thority  of  the  church.  Listen,'  said  the  priest,  turning  to  the 
captain  as  he  spoke,  '  listen  to  the  testimony  of  Cardinal  Baro- 
nius:' — taking  up  an  old  volume,  he  read  from  his  Annals  :  Anno. 
912,  tome  x.  p.  679.*  "O  what  was  then  the  face  of  the  holy 
Roman  Church  !  How  filthy,  when  the  vilest  and  most  power 
ful  harlots  ruled  in  the  court  of  Rome !  by  whose  powerful  sway 
dioceses  were  made  and  unmade,  bishops  consecrated,  and,  which 
is  inexpressibly  horrible  to  relate,  false  popes,  their  paramours, 
were  thrust  into  the  chair  of  Peter,  who,  in  being  numbered  as 
popes,  serve  no  other  purpose,  except  to  fill  up  the  catalogue  of 
the  popes  of  Rome.  For  who  can  say  that  persons  thrust  into 
the  popedom,  without  any  law,  by  harlots  of  this  sort,  were  legiti 
mate  popes  of  Rome  ?  In  these  elections,  no  mention  is  made 
of  the  acts  of  the  clergy,  either  by  their  choosing  the  pope  at  the 
time  of  his  election,  or  afterwards.  All  the  canons  were  sup 
pressed  into  silence,  the  voice  of  the  decrees  of  former  pontiffs 
were  not  allowed  to  be  heard,  ancient  traditions  were  proscribed, 
the  customs  formerly  practised  in  electing  the  pope,  with  the 
sacred  rites  and  pristine  usages,  were  all  extinguished.  In  this 
manner  lust,  supported  by  secular  power,  excited  to  frenzy  by 
the  rage  for  domination,  ruled  all  things."  And  Mosheimt  spe 
cifies  what  is  here  pointed  out.  "'Theodora,"  he  says,  "  a  famous 
courtezan,  by  the  interest  and  faction  which  she  then  had  in 
Rome,  got  her  professed  lover  chosen  pope,  who  was  called  John 
X."  And  he  adds,  "  In  short,  such  a  series  of  wild  disorders  gave 
occasion  to  historians  to  say,  that  those  times  produced  not  popes 
but  monsters!"  It  was  no  uncommon  thing  for  one  pope  to  ex 
communicate  another — to  curse  and  annul  all  his  acts,  including 
the  administration  of  the  sacraments.' 

"  '  Stay  one  moment !'  interrupted  the  captain.  '  Did  this  turn 
over  to  the  devil  all  who  had  been  pardoned  and  sent  to  Paradise 

*  The  original  is  cited  in  Dorking's  Papacy.  f  Vol.  ii.  p.  120. 


THE  POPES  OF  ROME.  159 

by  the  bishops  and  all  the  priests,  ordained  by  the  pope  so  de 
throned  ?' 

" '  If  there  were  any  truth  in  all  this,  it  would  be  so,'  replied 
the  priest,  addressing  the  captain ;  '  but  who  can  for  a  moment 
believe  it  ?' 

"  'And  yet  there  are  millions  who  profess  to  do  so,'  said  Mr. 
Kemble. 

" '  With  the  captain's  leave,'  said  the  priest,  bowing  to  that 
officer,  '  I  will  recite  an  example  of  the  manner  in  which  Pope 
Alexander  VI.,  the  father  of  Caesar  Borgia,  was  elected.  After 
the  funeral  obsequies  of  Pope  Innocent  VIII.,  the  cardinals  shut 
themselves  up  in  conclave  to  choose  a  successor.  In  order  to 
secure  the  votes  of  a  majority  of  the  cardinals,  he  entered  into  a 
solemn  bargain ;  that  Cardinal  Orsino  should  have  a  palace  and 
two  castles  ;  that  Ascanius  Sforza  should  be  made  vice-chancellor 
of  the  church  ;  that  Colonna  should  have  the  Abbey  of  St.  Bene 
dict,  with  all  the  castles  and  right  of  patronage  to  him  and  his 
family  forever ;  that  St.  Angelo  should  have  the  bishopric  of 
Porto,  with  the  town,  and  particularly  a  certain  cellar  full  of 
wine  ;  and  so  it  was  by  simony  Roderic  Borgia  was  elected  pope.* 
Nor  was  this  all.  The  very  day  of  his  coronation  he  created  his 
son  Ca3sar,  a  ferocious  and  dissolute  youth,  Archbishop  of  Va 
lencia  and  Bishop  of  Pampeluna.  He  next  proceeded  to  celebrate 
in  the  Vatican  the  nuptials  of  his  daughter  Lucrezia  by  festivities, 
at  which  his  mistress  Julia  Bella  was  present,  and  which  were 
enlivened  by  farces  and  indecent  songs.  "  Most  of  the  ecclesi 
astics,"  says  Infessura,  the  historian,  "  had  their  mistresses,  and 
all  the  convents  of  the  capitol  were  houses  of  ill  fame."  The 
dissolute  entertainments  given  by  the  pope  and  his  son  Cassar 
Borgia,  and  his  daughter  Lucrezia,  are  such,  says  D'Aubigne, 
as  can  neither  be  described  nor  thought  of. 

"  '  This  monster  was  not  so  infallible  as  to  avoid  the  pit  he  had 
digged  in  order  to  rid  himself  of  a  wealthy  cardinal,  for  whom  he 
had  prepared  poison  in  a  small  box  of  sweetmeats,  which  was 
placed  on  the  table  after  a  sumptuous  feast;  the  cardinal  receiving 
a  hint  of  the  design,  gained  over  the  attendant,  and  the  poisoned 
box  was  placed  before  Alexander.  He  ate  of  it, and  perished!' 

"  *  A  pretty  scoundrel  for  a  pope,'  exclaimed  Captain  Weathers- 
field. 

" '  Nor,  venerable  sir,  was  this  all,'  addressing  '  Peter's 
chair,'  'Panvinius,  in  his  Chronicles  of  the  Pontificate,  admits 
of  twenty  schisms  in  the  seamless  robe  of  the  church  as  con 
nected  with  the  popedom,  during  which  each  party  denounced 
and  excommunicated  the  other,  dividing  the  clergy  and  people 

*  Gordon's  Life  of  Alexander  VI.,  quoted  in  N.  Englander,  p.  284. 


160  PETER  SCHLEMIHL. 

into  fierce  and  ferocious  factions,  one  of  which  lasted  for  eighty 
years.  The  most  summary  processes  were  adopted  to  get  rid  of 
competitors;  Gregory  VII.  poisoned  six  popes,  and  then  without 
election  assumed  the  popedom.  The  scenes  of  strife,  of  strata 
gem,  of  wickedness,  of  bribery,  of  poisoning  and  of  blood-shed 
ding,  which  have  transpired  in  these  struggles,  venerable  sir,  for 
the  right  of  sitting  in  a  chair,  never  filled,  as  I  am  confidently 
assured  you  will  tell  us,  by  yourself.  But  to  proceed  one  step 
further  in  this  history  of  crime. 

"  '  The  enormities  of  those  days  far  transcend  all  that  history 
records  of  the  treachery  and  crime  by  which  men  have  secured 
the  throne  of  empire  :  so  that  Baronius  was  compelled  to  write 
that  "  in  those  days  the  church  was  for  the  most  part  without 
a  pope."  Are  you  not,  most  reverend  apostle,  called  upon  and 
compelled  by  every  consideration  of  humanity  and  of  truth,  to  dis 
avow  all  such  successors,  and  to  sweep  away  the  basis  of  all 
their  claims  by  a  disclaimer  of  any  primacy  of  the  apostles,  and 
of  all  those  monstrous  doctrines,  based  upon  an  apostolical  suc 
cession  in  the  church  ?' 

"  The  priest  looked  earnestly  at  the  chair  of  St.  Peter  for  a 
response.  Our  Peter  was  overwhelmed  with  the  vastness  of  the 
crimes  laid  to  his  charge,  and  the  claims  on  the  consciences  of 
men,  for  which  he  was  held  responsible.  The  captain  was 
equally  earnest  in  his  gaze,  and  even  Mr.  Kemble  was  evidently 
anxious  for  his  open  and  frank  abjuration  of  any  and  all  sym 
pathy  with  such  impostors  and  tyrants. 

"  While  Peter  was  deliberating  what  course  to  adopt,  the  priest, 
thinking  he  had  not  made  out  his  case  sufficiently  strong,  went  on 
with  his  appeal.  '  If  I  could  believe,  sir,  which,  as  a  Sweden- 
borgian  I  do  not,  in  the  doctrine  of  total  depravity,  and  wished  to 
find  the  most  striking  and  horrid  illustrations  of  that  doctrine,  I 
would  read  the  lives  of  the  popes,  written  by  Catholic  histo 
rians,  as  presenting  a  list  of  criminals  unequaled  in  any  peniten 
tiary  now  existing  in  any  Protestant  country.  Let  me  cite,  sir, 
a  few  examples.  Virgilius  waded  to  the  pontifical  chair  through 
the  blood  of  his  predecessor.  Pope  Joan,  they  tell  us,  was  elected 
and  confirmed  as  John  VIII.,  and  proved  to  be  a  female  ! 

"  '  Oh  !'  interrupted  the  captain,  '  Pope  Joan — bless  me,  I 
thought  she  was  one  of  my  old  grandmother's  goblins,  and  was 
as  true  a  story  as  that  of  the  Salem  witches.' 

"  '  What  I  have  said,  captain,  rests  on  the  testimony  of  their  own 
writers.  Platina  says,  "that  she  became  with  child  by  some  of 
those  about  her,  that  she  miscarried  and  died  in  her  way  to  the 
Lateran  Church,  and  that  her  pontificate  lasted  one  year,  one 


POPE  JOAN.  161 

month,  and  five  days,"*  and  Martin  Luther,  when  he  visited 
Rome,  was  astonished  to  find  in  his  days,  the  spot  marked  by 
her  statue  in  canonicals  with  an  infant  in  her  arms,  and  was  told 
it  was  in  commemoration  of  this  event  ;t  and  Dean  Prideaux  says : 
"  There  are  fifty  authorities  of  the  Church  of  Rome  in  favor  of 
it;"  and  certainly,  if  tradition  is  to  be  relied  on  for  the  imme 
diate  succession  of  St.  Peter's  chair,  there  is  abundant  reason  to 
rely  on  so  great  a  mass  of  testimony  for  Pope  Joan.  But,  sup 
pose  we  give  up  Pope  Joan,  then  who  is  to  supply  the  place  in 
their  own  lists  of  popes  ?  Who  was  Pope  John  VIII.  if  Pope 
Joan  was  not  ?  No,  captain,  as  the  Rev.  Mr.  Powell!  has  said 
in  his  review  of  Dr.  Hook's  sermon  preached  before  the  Queen 
of  England,  on  17th  of  June,  1838,  entitled  "  Hear  the  Church  :" 
"  If  half  the  history  of  popery  has  any  truth  in  it,  there  was  really 
a  female  strumpet,  as  a  link  in  this  chain,  as  a  progenetrix  of  the 
popish  priests  and  Oxford  tract  men  of  the  present  times." 

"  *  And  after  all,'  continued  the  priest,  with  emphasis,  '  Pope 
Joan  is  not  to  be  compared  with  her  predecessors ;  what  did  she 
do  but  follow  the  promptings  of  conjugal  love?'  addressing  him 
self  to  Captain  Weathersfield. 

"  '  That's  true.  We  must  not  be  hard  on  the  poor  lady,' 
said  Captain  Weathersfield;  'I  cheerfully  restore  Pope  Joan  to 
her  seat,  and  let  the  devil  take  the  rest ;'  then,  as  if  recollecting 
himself,  he  bowed  to  St.  Peter,  and  added — '  the  present  com 
pany  always  excepted.' 

"  Peter  kept  silence,  and  bore  it  all  with  the  patience  of  a 
martyr — 

"  The  priest  continued — *  Now,  venerable  sir,  under  false  con 
ceptions  of  the  language  of  our  Lord,  as  I  have  already  said,  the 
most  astounding  assumptions  have  been  made,  as  you  must  per 
ceive,  not  only  of  your  own  pre-eminence,  but  of  that  of  those 
who  claim  to  be  your  successors.  "  Our  most  holy  Lord" — is 
the  ordinary  style  attributed  to  the  pope  as  your  successor  by  the 
Council  of  Trent ;§  and  it  is  said  in  the  Canon  Law — "Let  a 
pope  be  so  bad  as  by  his  negligence  and  mal-administration  to 
carry  with  him  innumerable  people  to  hell,  yet  no  mortal  man 
whatever  must  presume  to  reprove  his  faults  ;  because,  he  being 
to  judge  all  men,  is  himself  to  be  judged  of  no  man."||  From 
what  I  have  said,  you  will  see,  most  venerable  Apostle,  the  im 
portance  of  the  question  which  I  have  now  to  submit  to  you,  the 

*  Platina  de  Vita  Pontif.  Rom.,  p.  133  ;  New  Englander,  p.  285. 
"j"  See  D'Aubigne's  Reformation. 

J  See  "  Essay  on  Apostolical  Succession,"  &c.  by  Thomas  Powell.  New 
York — published  in  1842. 

§  Council  Trid.,  session  xx.  chap.  11,  &c.  ||  Grat.  Dis.,  xl.  chap.  6. 

11 


162  PETER  SCHLEMIHL. 

answer  to  which  I  pray  you  to  grant  me  as  the  most  distin 
guished  honor  I  ever  hope  to  receive  ;  the  promulgation  of  which 
will  render  me  illustrious  in  all  the  coming  ages  of  the  world. 
The  immensity  of  the  benefit  you  have  it  in  your  power  to  ren 
der  mankind,  is  evidenced  by  the  vastness  of  the  wrongs  inflicted 
for  so  many  ages,  by  those  who  claim  to  be  your  successor  as 
supreme  head  of  the  church,  successors  all  unworthy  of  the  name 
they  have  worn,  made  conspicuous  by  vices  so  infamous  that 
Pope  Marcellus  II.  has  expressed  the  doubt  whether  a  pope  could 
be  saved;*  and,  sir,  from  the  days  of  John  VIII.  to  Leo  IX.  your 
successors  have  been  "  either  rake-hells  or  sots,  intolerable  for 
their  insolence  and  arrogance,  and  ravenous  as  wolves."! 

"  '  Marcellinus  sacrificed  to  idols  !  He  denied  the  fact  until  he 
was  convicted  on  indubitable  evidence.^  The  Council  of  Con 
stantinople  condemned  Pope  Honorius  for  heresy. §  The  Coun 
cil  of  Basil  condemned  Pope  Eugenius  as  a  "  notorious  offender 
of  the  whole  universal  church;  asimonist;  a  perjurer;  a  man 
incorrigible;  a  schismatic;  a  man  fallen  from  the  faith;  a  wilful 
heretic. "||  Pope  Damascus  II.  poisoned  his  predecessor  Clement 
II.,  and  then  invaded  the  chair  by  force. ^f  Pope  John  II.  was 
publicly  charged  in  a  Synod  of  Rome  with  incest.**  John  XIII. 

*  Thuanus,  lib.  xv.  p.  566. 

f  Machiavel's  Hist.,  lib.  xvi.  p.  1271.  Baronius,  Ann.  912,  sect.  8.  This 
recital,  as  quoted  above,  is  the  language  of  Bishop  Barrow,  Sup.  of  Pope,  213. 

J  Notitia  Eccle.,  p   86,  87. 

§  Bishop  Jewel's  Defence  of  the  Apology.  ||  Idem. 

IT  Platina's  Life  of  Clement  II.     Life  of  Popes,  p.  170. 

**  Bowyer's  Life  of  Popes,  vol.  v.  p.  107.  See  Lives  of  Alexander  VI., 
John  XII,  Paul  III.,  for  like  examples. 

An  American  gentleman  writing  from  Rome,  (see  New  York  Courier  and 
Enquirer  of  llth  July,  1846,)  speaking  of  Gregory  XIV.,  who  died  on  the  1st 
of  June,  1846,  says,  "As  a  man.  if  not  greatly  calumniated,  he  was  passionate, 
not  much  restrained  by  his  vows  of  chastity,  and  habitually  addicted  to  the 
intemperate  use  of  intoxicating  drinks.  He  left  money  and  personal  property 
valued  at  two  millions  of  dollars  to  his  nephews  and  nieces!"  Pope's  nephews 
and  nieces  are  well  known  as  the  children  of  the  Popes,  and  as  such,  figure 
largely  in  the  history  of  papacy. 

The  Infallible  Heads  of  the  Infallible  Church.— John  XXII.  was  a  heretic,  and 
denied  the  immortality  of  the  soul.  John  XXIII.,  Gregory  XII.,  and  Benedict 
XIII.,  were  all  Popes  and  infallible  heads  of  the  church  at  the  same  time; 
and  the  Council  of  Constance  cashiered  the  whole  of  them  as  illegitimate. 
The  Council  of  Basil  convicted  Pope  Eugenius  of  schism  and  heresy.  Pope 
Marcellinus  actually  sacrificed  to  idols.  Pope  Liberius  was  an  Arian,  and 
subscribed  to  that  creed.  Anastasius  was  excommunicated  as  a  heretic  by 
his  own  clergy.  Silvester  II.  sacrificed  to  the  devil.  Formosus  was  pro 
moted  to  the  chair  through  perjury.  Sergius  III.  caused  his  predecessor's 
body  to  be  dug  out  of  the  grave,  its  head  cut  off,  and  then  flung  into  the  Tiber. 
Boniface  deposed,  imprisoned,  and  then  plucked  out  the  eyes  of  his  prede 
cessor.  And  Pope  Joan  was  a  profligate  female.  In  a  word,  many  of  the 


VICES  OF  POPES.  163 

usurped  the  pontificate  and  spent  his  time  in  hunting,  in  lascivious- 
ness  and  monstrous  forms  of  vice — he  fled  from  the  trial  to  which 
he  was  summoned,  and  was  stabbed  in  the  act  of  adultery;*  and 
to  speak  of  Alexander  VI.  is  a  task  under  which  all  language 
halts  and  fails;  "  his  beastly  morals,  his  immense  ambition,  his 
insatiable  avarice,  his  detestable  cruelty,  his  furious  lusts,  and 
monstrous  incests  with  his  daughter  Lucretia,  are  described  in 
deed  at  large  by  Guicciardini  and  others,  authentic  papal  his 
torians." 

"  *  Under  the  sanction  of  your  great  name  and  authority,  dis 
pensations  and  indulgences  of  all  sorts  have  been  granted — tri 
butes  imposed — inquisitions  established — commutations  for  every 
crime  have  been  made — and  painful  pilgrimages  enforced  and  prac 
tised  at  the  sacrifice  of  family  and  fortune.  Indeed,  history  fur 
nishes  no  greater  catalogue  of  crimes  and  miseries  than  those 
which  are  laid  down  at  your  door,  and  'tis  to  you,  the  Apostle 
Peter  himself,  my  honored  guest,  that  I  make  this  solemn  appeal 
on  behalf  of  the  millions  now  alive  still  subject  to  the  sway  of 
these  dreadful  delusions,  the  slaves  of  this  hateful  Hierarchy ! 
and  in  behalf  of  the  coming  millions  of  souls  whose  happiness 
in  this  life,  and  whose  destiny  in  the  life  to  come  are  to  be  deter 
mined  by  their  obedience  to  such  superstitions,  all  resting,  sir,  on 
your  primacy  and  supremacy  in  the  church.  I  rest  the  question 
there — If  these  claims  be  set  aside,  the  whole  structure  of  papal 
power  falls  in  one  vast  ruin,  never  to  be  rebuilt.  In  view,  then, 
of  all  the  tremendous  responsibilities  resting  upon  you,  let  the 
truth  be  spoken  ;  say  !  What  are  we  to  believe  ?' 

44  The  tones  of  the  priest  were  earnest,  his  look  eloquent,  and 
he  sat  looking  toward  where  our  Peter  sat,  with  an  eager  gaze, 
in  which  the  captain  and  mate  deeply  sympathized. 

"  Peter  sat  mute,  astounded  by  the  difficulties  in  which  he  was 
involved,  in  being  called  upon  to  decide  questions  about  which  he 
was  profoundly  ignorant.  He  was  indeed  at  his  wit's  end,  or  as 
a  distinguished  Senator  of  Babylonia  when  similarly  situated  in 

Popes  have  been  atheists,  rebels,  murderers,  conjurors,  adulterers,  and  sodom 
ites.  Papal  Rome  has  far  exceeded  in  crime  her  Pagan  predecessor.  It  is 
not,  therefore,  to  be  wondered  at  that  the  Popes,  though  always  assuming  a 
new  name,  yet  never  take  the  name  of  Peter.  It  is  a  curious  fact  that  they 
always  shun  it.  Those  who  have  received  that  name  at  the  font  have  always 
changed  it  when  they  reached  the  chair.  Petrus  de  Tarantasia  changed  his 
name  to  Innocent  IV.  Petrus  Caraf  became  Paul  V.  Sergius  III.'s  Christian 
name  was  also  Peter.  This  practice  looks  like  conscious  guilt.  They  fear 
the  name  of  Peter  would  but  too  plainly  show  their  apostacy  from  the  Apos 
tle  Peter's  virtues;  and  men  would  be  apt  to  exclaim,  "how  unlike  is  Peter 
the  Pope  to  Peter  the  Apostle." — Stephen's  "  Spirit  of  the  Church  of  Rome." 
*  Platina's  Life  of  John  VIII.  Lives  of  Popes,  p.  155. 


164  PETER  SCHLEMIHL. 

the  senate  chamber  once  said,  when  called  upon  to  give  a  cast 
ing  vote,  '  We  are  in  a  bad  box/  but  with  a  sagacity  and  '  sober 
second  thought,'  not  unworthy  of  that  eminent  statesman,  Peter 
opened  the  Testament,  and  having  searched  for  the  passage, 
marked  the  text — '  Brethren,  stand  fast  and  hold  the  traditions 
which  ye  have  been  taught,  whether  by  word  or  our  epistle.' 

"  The  priest  looked  his  unsurpassed  astonishment.  The  cap 
tain's  curiosity  could  not  be  controlled,  and  he  reached  his  hand 
for  the  Bible,  the  priest  still  gazing  at  the  text  with  speechless 
amazement,  all  unconscious  of  the  captain's  wish. 

" '  For  God's  sake,  let  me  have  a  look  !'  exclaimed  the  cap 
tain.  The  priest  gave  him  the  book,  and  with  a  countenance  ex 
pressive  of  emotions  of  contempt  and  abhorrence,  rose  and  walked 
into  his  state  room.  '  By  George  !'  exclaimed  the  captain,  after 
reading  the  text  over  and  over,  'if  this  is  not  as  dark  as  a  pocket. 
I  think  your  Apostleship  must  have  been  taking  lessons  in  non- 
committalism  from  my  neighbor  at  Kinder/look.1 

"  Peter  kept  quiet — he  breathed  freer  and  deeper  when  the 
captain  went  on  deck,  and  he  found  himself  once  more  alone. 

"  Shakspeare  tells  us  '  sorrows  come  not  as  single  spies,  but  in 
battalions' — and  so  our  Apostle  thought  on  the  night  following 
this  conversation.  Walking  on  deck  in  the  midnight  watch,  he 
went  forward  and  found  the  men  sitting  on  the  windlass,  earnestly 
engaged,  conversing  in  a  whispering  tone,  so  that  he  was  com 
pelled  to  approach  very  near  to  hear  what  was  said.  He  found 
himself  the  subject  of  the  conversation. 

"  '  I  wish  he  were  the  devil  himself  as  you  say  he  is,'  said  the 
Spaniard,  *  rather  than  St.  Peter ;  but  do  you  think  I'm  such  a 
fool  as  to  meddle  with  him  if  it  be  so  ?  Suppose  we  could  throw 
him  overboard ;  do  you  think  he  would  drown  ?  The  devils  took 
to  the  water  once  upon  a  time  as  a  matter  of  choice ;  now  if  you 
want  to  try  your  hand  at  this  sort  of  business,  you  may;  I'll  have 
nothing  to  do  with  it ;  but  if  you  want  to  borrow  my  knife  to 
stick  the  pig,  mind  I  loan  it  to  you  to  kill  the  pig,  and  not  the 
Apostle,  why  here  it  is.' 

"  '  Oh  !'  said  the  steward,  who  was  evidently  the  instigator  of 
this  conspiracy,  'I'm  not  a  chivalrous  gentleman  like  General 
Pickens  ;  I  candidly  confess,  I  was  born  to  fear.1 

"  A  puritan  sailor  now  spoke:  'Though  he  wished  the  saint  to 
the  devil,  or  the  devil  was  with  the  saint,  he  would  not  consent 
to  any  such  rascally  way  of  getting  rid  of  him.  And  how  do 
you  know,  steward,  that  he's  not  at  this  moment  at  your  elbow, 
you  scoundrel !'  The  idea  was  so  startling  that  it  brought  the 
steward  to  his  feet  in  an  instant,  and  Peter,  following  in  the  foot 
steps  of  so  many  of  his  illustrious  predecessors,  who  have  found 


CONSPIRACY  AGAINST  ST.  PETER.  165 

hard  blows  better  than  soft  arguments,  knocked  him  over,  and 
laid  him  senseless.  The  terror  inspired  by  such  convincing  evi 
dence  of  Peter's  supremacy,  prevented  any  outcry,  and  terror- 
struck,  the  men  ran  aft.  They  feared  to  tell  of  what  had  so 
frightened  them,  lest  their  conspiracy  against  Peter  should  draw 
down  the  wrath  of  the  captain,  whose  watch  was  on  deck  at  the 
time ;  and  full  of  fear  and  dismay,  they  crept  into  their  berths 
when  the  watch  was  out,  devoutly  wishing  themselves  at  the  end 
of  their  voyage. 

"  The  steward,  the  next  day,  waited  on  the  table  with  much  fear 
and  trembling,  but  he  determined  to  do  by  stratagem  what  he  had 
failed  to  accomplish  by  force.  And  whenever  he  found  the  cap 
tain  alone,  after  having  searched  the  cabin  to  see  that  they  were 
alone,  he  expressed  his  doubts  as  to  the  validity  of  Peter's  claims 
to  the  Apostleship,  and  was  glad  to  find  the  captain's  confidence 
in  his  infallibility  a  good  deal  shaken.  This  was  something  ac 
complished.  On  the  forecastle,  he  did  not  fail  to  whisper  to 
Patrick  that  Peter  ate  meat  on  fast  days,  but  Pat  said  he  had  no 
doubt  granted  to  himself  a  dispensation,  and  being  an  apostle, 
could  eat  what  he  pleased  :  still,  this  neglect  of  the  rules  of  the 
church  somewhat  staggered  Patrick,  and  if  it  was  a  satisfactory 
reply  to  the  steward,  it  was  not  so  to  himself.  And  as  it  was 
now  near  Easter  Sunday,  this  license,  on  the  part  of  Peter,  was 
particularly  painful  to  Patrick  and  the  Spaniard,  who  were  all 
but  dead  with  their  extreme  abstinence. 

"  There  was  one  test  which  remained,  by  which  Peter  was  to  be 
tried,  and  which  the  Catholics  both  said  would  be  convincing — 
and  this  was,  whether  he  would  eat  meat  on  the  coming  Good 
Friday.  The  steward  expressed  his  belief  that  he  would,  and  if 
he  did,  '  he  was  no  saint' — to  which  conclusion  the  Irishman 
and  Spaniard  both  responded,  *  Certainly,  no  saint  would  eat 
meat  on  Good  Friday.'  '  Now,'  said  the  steward,  l  we  shall 
soon  see.'  The  descendants  of  Puritans  among  the  sailors  had 
seized  the  opportunity  of  teasing  these  poor  fellows  by  all  man 
ner  of  means,  hoping  to  convert  them,  if  not  to  their  opinions,  to 
their  customs :  and  the  steward,  who  was  both  a  Frenchman  and 
a  skeptic,  loved  to  repeat  the  epigram,  *  Peut  on  croire  avec  bon 
sens,  qu'un  lardon  le  mit  en  colere,  &c.,J*  to  the  Spaniard  with 
great  unction." 

*   Pent  on  croire  avec  bon  sens 
Qu'un  lardon  le  mit  en  colere? 
Ou,  que  manger  un  hareng, 
C'est  un  secret  pour  lui  plaire? 
En  sa  gloire  enveloppe 
Songe  t'il  bien  do  nos  soupes? 

Swift's  Works,  vol.  x.  p.  122,  Am.  Ed. 


166  PETER  SCHLEMIHL. 

"  Pardon  me  !"  said  Mrs.  Smith,  "  for  interrupting  you,  but  I 
don't  recollect  the  epigram — can't  you  repeat  it  to  me  in  English  ?" 

"I  will  try  and  recall  Dean  Swift's  version  of  it."  After  a  mo 
ment's  musing,  the  Gentleman  in  Black  recited  it  as  follows : — 

"  '  Who  can  believe  with  common  sense, 
A  bacon  slice  gives  God  offence  ? 
Or,  how  a  herring  has  a  charm 
Almighty  vengeance  to  disarm? 
Wrapped  up  in  majesty  divine, 
Does  he  regard  on  what  we  dine?' 

"  To  the  Spaniard,  who  understood  French,  this  was  extremely 
puzzling,  especially  as  he  was  excessively  hungry.  The  Irish 
man  sympathized  in  all  these  sufferings,  but  was  too  honest  to 
doubt  what  he  had  been  taught  to  believe.  Now  the  second 
mate,  who  had  his  berth  forward,  as  a  punishment  for  getting 
intoxicated  on  the  day  of  sailing,  was  a  fellow  of  humor  and  edu 
cation,  and  he  told  strange  stories  of  the  virtues  of  abstinence; 
virtues,  which  by  a  contrariety  not  uncommon  in  the  world,  he 
was  the  last  to  practise,  though  the  first  to  preach.  He  told  the 
puritans,  *  that  Patrick  meant  to  outlive  them  all,  and  therefore 
'twas  he  kept  himself  on  such  short  allowance,  and  like  St.  An 
thony,  who  limited  himself  to  twelve  ounces  of  bread  and  water, 
he  meant  to  live  105  years;  or  like  St.  James,  the  hermit,  to  104 
years;  or  Arsenius,  the  tutor  of  the  Emperor  Arcadius,  120 
years;  or  St.  Epiphanius,  115  years  ;  or  St.  Simon,  Stylites,  112 
years ;'  and  then  he  told  Patrick  '  not  to  despair  ;  he  would  not 
die  before  Lent  was  over,  for  there  was  the  best  authority  for  be 
lieving,  that  St.  Simon  Stylites,  had  fasted  40  days  and  nights  on 
the  top  of  his  pillar  on  the  burning  deserts  of  Syria;  and  that  it 
was  told  in  the  History  of  the  Church,*  that  a  hermit  in  the 
Canton  of  Schwitz,  lived  twenty  years  without  food.  But  Pat 
rick,'  said  he,  *  if  you  can't  hold  out,  why  not  ask  the  Apostle 
Peter  for  an  indulgence  ?' 

"  'And  a  pretty  fool  I  should  make  of  myself,  if  he  should  put 
one  under  a  penance  of  forty  days  longer,  for  making  such  a  re 
quest,'  replied  Patrick.  It  must  be  confessed,  the  discussion  of 
these  questions  tended  to  make  their  own  sense  of  suffering  ex 
treme,  in  contrast  with  the  latitude  the  Apostle  evidently  gave 
himself,  of  which  they  were  daily  spectators,  as  they  peeped 
down  the  sky-light  into  the  cabin. 

Now,  there  was  one  pig  on  board,  the  last  of  the  live  stock, 
and  this  the  steward  kept  for  dinner  on  Good  Friday,  and  when 
that  day  came,  it  was  served  up  in  the  best  manner,  and  with  all 

*  Histoire  Eccl.,  lib.  xii.  ch.  21. 


CONSPIRACY  AGAINST  ST.  PETER.  167 

the  skill  which  the  steward  and  cook  could  command.  And 
Peter,  all  unconscious  of  the  condition  of  public  sentiment  above 
deck,  and  the  importance  attached  to  his  course  of  conduct,  took 
his  accustomed  seat  with  the  sincerest  intention  of  doing  justice 
to  the  dinner.  The  effect  upon  the  spectators,  most  interested, 
was  all  that  the  steward  could  have  desired.  Their  veneration 
was  fast  subsiding  into  the  extremest  skepticism :  and  never  did 
fish  and  potatoes  seem  such  wretched  fare  to  Patrick  and  the 
Spaniard,  as  they  eat  their  only  meal  of  the  day,  looking  on  their 
heretical  companions  enjoying  the  remains  of  the  captain's  pig. 

"  The  steward  having  thus  created,  after  the  manner  of  poli 
ticians  of  all  countries,  a  little  *  public  opinion,'  felt  himself  safe  in 
taking  another  step  in  his  revenge  on  the  Apostle  for  the  blow  he 
had  received  ;  and  so  there  was  a  silver  spoon  missing.  It  was 
nowhere  to  be  found.  The  captain,  on  asking  the  steward  *  if  he 
had  found  it?'  whispered  in  his  ear,  *  that  if  he  would  search  the 
passenger  saint,  no  doubt  he  would  find  it.'  A  hint  the  captain 
declined  to  take.  The  steward  went  on  secreting  the  spoons  till 
all  but  three  were  missing:  still  urging  the  captain  to  search  Pe 
ter  ;  but  the  captain  chose  to  believe  that  the  steward  or  the 
cook  was  the  thief,  and  so  searched  them  without  success.  The 
loss  of  the  spoons  had  the  effect  to  irritate  the  captain,  who  had 
already  become  somewhat  doubtful  as  to  what  sort  of  a  spirit  he 
had  on  board.  If  he  was  a  saint,  it  was  not  so  pleasant  to  have 
any  one  so  near  to  overlook  him  ;  and  if  he  was  of  another  spe 
cies,  the  sooner  he  left  the  ship  the  better. 

"Finding  that  these  petty  larcenies  did  not  have  their  effect, 
the  steward  ventured  on  purloining  the  captain's  gold  watch,  of 
which  he  was  especially  proud,  and  boasted  '  that  it  was  superior 
to  any  chronometer  in  the  possession  of  the  Admiralty,  and  that 
he  would  not  take  five  hundred  dollars  for  it,  telling  how  he  had 
rated  his  ship  by  it,  and  how  exact  it  had  always  proved  itself.' 
The  captain  went  down  as  usual,  at  meridian,  to  wind  up  his 
watch.  It  was  gone!  He  came  up  in  a  rage,  and  swore  he 
would  search  the  ship  if  that  watch  was  not  produced.  The 
crew  were  in  consternation — Mr.  Kemble  alone  looked  perfectly 
calm  ;  even  the  priest  himself  was  disquieted  by  the  terrible  rage 
of  the  captain.  During  the  dinner  which  followed,  the  captain, 
drank  several  stiff  tumblers  of  brandy  and  water,  and  eyed  all 
about  him  as  one  fortifying  his  courage  for  some  unusual  exertion 
of  strength  or  authority.  His  looks  towards  the  apostle  were 
far  from  being  friendly,  while  his  manners  to  the  priest  were  cold 
or  abrupt.  The  dinner  over,  he  buttoned  up  his  coat  and  went 
on  deck,  and  Peter,  not  wishing  to  be  shut  down  below,  and  hav 
ing  some  suspicion  that  harm  .was  brooding  in  some  quarter,  fol- 


168  PETER  SCHLEM1HL. 

lowed  the  mate  and  priest  with  his  usual  unheard  step.  The 
mates  were  called  to  a  consultation.  The  captain  told  them  his 
watch  was  stolen ;  he  was  determined  to  search  the  ship,  and  it 
was  his  mind  to  begin  with  the  cabin ;  that  he  had  suspected  the 
steward,  and  had  searched  his  bag  himself,  but  had  not  found 
either  spoons  or  watch  there,  and  now  he  wished  to  know  how 
they  advised  him  to  proceed  with  the  search.  Just  at  this  point 
the  steward  came  up,  and  whispered  to  the  captain  that  he  had 
heard  his  watch  ticking  in  Peter's  pocket  as  they  sat  at  dinner, 
and  that  if  captain  would  allow  him  to  seize  Peter  at  the  supper 
table,  the  captain  would  be  sure  to  find  the  watch  and  spoons 
upon  him,  meaning,  as  he  told  me  himself,  to  realize  the  predic 
tion  by  shoving  the  watch  and  spoons  into  Peter's  pocket  the 
moment  before  seizing  him — so  making  the  case  of  Peter's  guilt 
one  beyond  question.  But  unluckily  for  the  steward,  the  apostle 
heard  him,  and  at  once  comprehended  the  steward's  plan  of 
operations,  and  with  one  blow  of  his  fist  planted  behind  his  ear, 
sent  the  steward  headlong  to  the  deck  some  ten  paces  distant, 
when  lo  !  the  watch  and  spoons  fell  out  of  his  breast  pockets  on 
the  deck.  One  would  have  thought  so  complete  a  justification  of 
the  apostle  would  have  inspired  the  captain  with  sentiments  of 
profound  regret,  but  so  soon  as  the  terror  of  this  thunderbolt 
had  passed  out  of  the  captain's  mind,  blinded  by  rage  that  his 
authority  had  been  usurped  by  even  Peter  himself,  he  cried  out 
in  tones  of  fiercest  fury,  '  Throw  him  overboard  !  Seize  him, 
men!  Overboard  with  him  !'  And  the  men  ran  aft  and  began  a 
sort  of  blindman's-buflf  search  for  Peter,  in  which,  to  his  un 
speakable  surprise,  the  priest  joined  with  an  ardor  which  aston 
ished  the  apostle;  the  fact  was,  he  had  been  thoroughly  dis 
gusted  with  his  guest,  and  would  have  been  glad  to  have  been 
well  rid  of  him,  and  now  he  had  the  captain's  word  for  it,  he 
was  ready  to  lend  his  hand  to  heave  him  overboard.  Peter 
looked  over  the  side;  there  were  several  sharks  following  the 
ship,  but  seeing  no  one  whose  stomach  would  at  all  suit  him, 
he  sprung  into  the  rigging,  and  took  his  seat  on  the  end  of  the 
mizzen  yard  to  watch  the  pursuit  in  which  all  but  Mr.  Kemble 
were  engaged.  He  could  not  but  be  surprised  at  the  scene 
going  on  below.  He  was  no  longer  a  divinity  but  a  demon,  and 
the  priest,  too!  recently  so  reverential  in  his  demeanor,  was  now 
seeking  his  life  !  Alas  !  thought  he,  how  perishable  is  popular 
applause!  The  captain  now  ordered  the  men  into  the  rigging, 
and  before  Peter  could  change  his  position,  the  Spaniard  was 
feeling  for  him  along  the  yard  on  which  he  sat.  There  was 
no  escape,  so  waiting  for  his  approach,  he  tried  the  virtues  of 
another  blow,  which  loosed  the  Spaniard's  hold,  and  screaming, 


STORM  AT  SEA.  169 

he  fell  into  the  sea.  The  hen-coop  was  thrown  overboard,  and 
Peter  saw,  with  pleasure,  that  the  Spaniard  swam  to  it.  The 
crew  now  were  engaged  in  rounding  the  ship,  in  lowering  the 
boat,  and  rowing  to  take  him  up,  which  occupied  some  time. 

"  No  sooner  was  the  boat  hauled  in,  than  the  attention  of  the 
captain  was  called  to  the  portents  of  the  sky.  The  sun  was  near 
setting,  and  on  the  horizon  were  seen  those  streamers  so  fearful 
to  mariners,  and  to  which  they  have  given  the  euphonious  name 
of  *  mare's  tails.'  Soon  after,  fitful  vapors  of  electric  fluid, 
which  the  sailors  style  '  composants'  (Corpus-Christi),  were  seen 
dancing  from  the  ends  of  the  yards  to  the  tops  of  the  masts, 
changing  their  positions  up  and  down,  and  from  one  mast  to  an 
other,  in  a  manner  always  appalling  to  uninformed  men,  and 
which  gradually  descended  lower  and  lower, — always  a  bad 
omen.  This  coming  storm  was  regarded  by  the  captain  and  his 
crew,  as  got  up  for  the  occasion  by  our  Peter,  in  order  to  revenge 
himself  for  the  treatment  he  had  so  recently  received  at  their 
hands. 

**  The  captain,  however,  was  too  thorough-bred  a  sailor  not  to 
take  all  the  necessary  precautions  to  meet  the  approaching  tem 
pest,  and  he  gave  command — '  all  hands  !  shorten  sail,  down  with 
them — take  in  every  rag  of  canvas  !  man  top  gallant  clew  lines  ! 
clew  them  up,  clew  them  down,  cheerily  !  cheerily  !'  The  poor 
sailors,  at  their  wits'-end,  alarmed  at  the  signs  of  the  heavens,  and 
at  the  fearful  contest  in  which  they  were  about  to  be  engaged, 
speedily  executed  his  orders.  They  labored  with  all  earnestness, 
making  the  booms  well  fast,  unreefing  the  studding  sails  and  royal 
and  sky-sail  gear;  getting  rolling  ropes  on  the  yards,  setting  up 
the  weather  breast  back  stays,  and  making  all  other  preparations 
for  a  storm. 

"  The  bright  streak  of  light  which  remained  open  in  the  west, 
suddenly  closed,  and  masses  of  heavy  clouds  darkened  down 
upon  the  face  of  the  ocean,  while  the  moon,  full-orbed,  as  if  laugh 
ing  at  their  calamity,  and  mocking  their  perils,  was  rising  in  the 
east  all  placid  and  serene. 

"  The  crew  having  obeyed  the  orders,  returned  to  the  deck,  and 
the  captain,  looking  at  the  trim  of  his  vessel,  said  to  the  priest, 
who  stood  near  him,  terrified  by  the  aspect  of  the  skies, 

44  4  She's  as  tough,  sir,  as  iron  and  oak  can  make  her,  and  as 
wholesome  as  a  ship  can  be' — a  phrase  which  was  as  little  intel 
ligible  to  the  priest  as  it  was  to  Peter,  though  it  has  been  made 
classical  by  Dean  Swift  in  his  celebrated  voyages  of  Captain  Gul 
liver. 

44  Having  scanned  his  ship,  again,  the  captain  thumped  on  the 
roof  of  the  gangway.  4  Now,  Peter,  do  your '  A  gust  of  wind 


170  PETER  SCHLEMIHL. 

prevented  Peter  from  hearing  the  close  of  this  dreadful  challenge, 
though  the  captain  soon  had  reason  to  believe  he  was  taken  at  his 
word  ;  for  the  waves  which  had  been  cresting  and  foaming,  rose 
in  heavy  masses,  and  suddenly  the  winds  lulled,  when  the  vessel, 
relieved  of  her  canvas,  yawed  to  and  fro  in  the  troughs  of  the 
sea,  as  the  waves  rose  and  fell  beneath  her.  This  calm  was  fol 
lowed  by  a  crash  of  thunder  which  struck  the  foremast  and  splin 
tered  it  from  the  cap  down  to  the  deck,  and  at  the  same  instant,  a 
whirlwind  struck  them,  which  carried  the  mast  over  the  side, 
taking  the  main-top  gallant  mast  along  with  it,  carrying  away  the 
bulwarks,  and  making  that  side  of  the  ship  a  mere  wreck.  To 
cut  away  and  clear  the  ship,  was  the  work  of  some  minutes,  during 
which  time,  the  spars  were  beating  the  sides  of  the  ship  with 
heavy  shocks,  and  the  crew,  pale  with  dread  and  dismay,  were 
all  but  paralyzed  in  the  contest  with  the  demon  saint  who  sat  all 
this  while  in  the  mizzen-top  shaking  with  fear.  The  captain's 
voice,  once  so  clear  and  full,  now  became  weak  and  tremulous. 
It  was  but  in  whispers  he  was  able  to  speak  to  the  man  at  the 
wheel — 'ste-a-dy,  man!  ste-a-dy.' 

"  The  ocean  was  now  white  with  foam — the  waves  were  flat 
tened  by  the  force  of  the  wind  to  a  dead  level,  and  the  captain 
and  crew  having  effected  a  clearance  of  the  ship,  looked  into  each 
other's  faces  to  see  if  there  was  anything  of  confidence  or  en 
couragement  left.  The  whirlwind  passed,  and  rain  and  tempest 
followed  ;  the  waves  again  rose  in  their  majesty  and  might,  and 
Peter  saw  with  new  terror,  a  dark  mass  rolling  on,  which  crested 
and  broke  over  the  deck,  and  for  a  while  he  thought  all  was  sink 
ing  to  the  depths  of  the  ocean.  The  crew  discovered  it  in  time, 
sprung  to  the  rigging  and  wound  the  ropes  about  them,  when 
down  the  rushing  ruin  came,  sweeping  the  deck  of  boats,  caboose, 
and  everything  movable.  The  ship  recovered  herself  slowly,  and 
the  voice  of  the  captain,  hoarse  with  fear,  was  once  more  heard 
giving  command,  and  the  crew  reluctantly  relinquishing  their  fast 
enings,  obeyed  him.  *  Where  is  Mr.  Kemble  ?'  cried  the  cap 
tain.  The  crew  looked  around — he  was  gone  !  The  waves  had 
carried  him  away,  and  with  him  the  storms  of  life  were  over. 
Peter  then  recollected  he  had  heard  amid  the  tumult  a  faint  cry 
of  'None  but  Christ! — none  but  Christ!'  The  night  was  a 
long  and  perilous  one,  but  when  the  morning  broke,  all  was  bright 
and  beautiful,  showing  a  sad  contrast  with  the  condition  in  which 
they  found  themselves.  The  captain's  courage  rose,  and  his 
temper  came  back  in  all  its  force  ;  and  as  Peter  was  believed  to 
have  taken  his  flight  in  the  tempest,  which  he  had  raised  for  his 
revenge,  he  berated  the  poor  priest  as  the  cause  of  all  his  misfor 
tunes,  and  the  death  of  poor  Kemble,  to  whom  the  captain  was 


171 

greatly  attached.  The  priest  was  very  penitent,  and  deprecated 
the  wrath  of  the  captain  as  best  he  could.  '  You  shall  pay 
dear  for  all  this,  sir !'  exclaimed  the  captain,  shaking  his  fist  in 
the  priest's  face. 

"  '  My  dear  captain,  you  won't  hold  me  responsible  for  all  your 
mishaps,'  he  replied. 

"  *  I  wish  I  could  !  but  you  shall  pay  me  for  the  passage  of 
your  rascally  saint.  This  I  have  a  right  to  demand.  No  man 
comes  over  the  side  of  my  ship,  and  does  not  pay  his  passage 
money.  You  invited  this  saint  on  board  without  my  consent ;  he 
has  had  a  seat  at  my  table,  and  has  eaten  enough  for  all  the  saints 
in  the  calendar;  what  do  you  say  to  that?' 

"  The  poor  man  had  not  a  word  to  say,  and  Peter  himself  felt 
that  this  was,  indeed,  a  home-thrust ;  and  so  it  was  agreed  on,  by 
the  priest,  that  he  would  pay  for  Peter's  passage,  begging  the 
captain  to  say  nothing  about  the  saint  to  his  friends,  on  their 
arrival. 

"  The  crew,  weary  and  spent  with  labor,  fear  and  fasting,  were 
glad  to  get  a  watch  below  deck,  and  Peter  availed  himself  of  the 
opportunity  to  rummage  the  locker,  and  to  supply  himself  with 
water.  Towards  evening  he  heard  with  delight,  the  cry  at  mast 
head,  'land-ho  !'  and  saw  it  rising  on  the  horizon,  over  the  bow 
of  the  vessel.  So  taking  off  the  felt  from  his  boots,  he  stepped 
ashore,  and  landed  in  this  asylum  of  the  outcasts  of  all  nations." 


CHAPTER   IX. 

Peter's  visit  to  Babylon — Peter  has  his  purse  taken  from  him  in  the  City  of 
Magnificent  Distances — Arrives  in  Babylon — Loses  his  ;'  seven  league  boots" 
— His  walks  about  the  city — Mystified  by  the  busts  he  sees  in  one  of  the 
banks — the  sculptures  on  the  University — Story  of  the  Gong — The  reptiles 
on  the  Tombs — Peter's  cogitations  thereon — Visits  a  Gothic  church ;  his  re 
flections  on  the  Ritual — A  party  of  ladies  remain  to  examine  the  church 
after  morning  prayers — Peter  listens  to  their  conference  concerning  the 
symbols  on  the  painted  windows — The  baby  of  one  of  the  ladies  brought 
in  by  her  servant — Their  conversation  respecting  baptismal  regeneration — 
The  celebrated  enigma  of  the  eagle  solved  by  one  of  the  ladies. 

The  adventures  of  Peter  in  the  City  of  Magnificent  Distances  are  omitted. 

THE   Gentleman   in   Black   continued  his  conversation  as  fol 
lows  :  "  Finding  all  my  efforts  to  discover  Peter  fruitless,  I  dis- 


172  PETER  SCHLEMIHL. 

missed  all  my  old  agents,  and  obtained  the  services  of  a  new  set, 
who  had  manifested  great  zeal  in  my  employ  in  other  places. 
These  I  brought  to  the  city,  and  offered  them  the  highest  rewards 
for  their  labors,  and  they  entered  upon  their  duties  with  alacrity 
and  earnestness.  Especially  was  this  true  of  a  small  sprightly 
man  who  was  always  on  the  alert,  day  and  night.  He  was  a 
famous  walker,  and  had  at  a  single  heat  marched  from  Pennsyl 
vania  to  Mississippi,  thence  to  the  Capitol,  and  had  recently  over 
run  Texas,  and  has  since  walked  into  Mexico.  It  so  happened 
that  Peter  was  passing  up  one  of  the  broad  avenues  of  the  City  of 
Magnificent  Distances,  in  a  very  careless  manner,  all  unconscious 
of  what  he  was  about,  when  this  gentleman  ran  into  him,  and 
upset  him  in  an  instant.  Without  the  loss  of  a  second,  he  was 
down  upon  him,  had  him  by  the  throat,  and  his  hand  in  his 
pocket,  and  my  Corduan  purse  once  more  saw  daylight.  He 
threw  it  to  one  of  his  friends,  who  pocketed  it  in  a  moment,  so 
that  when  Peter  arose  he  saw  at  once  how  vain  it  was  for  him  to 
contend  the  matter  against  such  odds,  and  found  himself  once 
more  condemned  to  his  former  state  of  poverty." 

"  Is  it  possible,"  said  Mrs.  Smith,  "  that  he  had  not  made  de 
posits  of  money  to  his  credit  in  any  of  the  banks  of  Europe, 
or  of  this  country  ?  Had  he  made  no  provision  for  such  an  ac 
cident  as  losing  his  purse?" 

"  Why,  madam,  he  was  like  many  other  men,  who  think  no 
bank  so  safe  as  the  sub-treasury  of  their  own  pockets ;  and  as 
he  thought  he  had  this  purse  safe,  he  took  no  such  precautions. 
And,  indeed,  it  would  have  been  somewhat  difficult  for  him  to 
have  done  so  without  visibility,  for  though  these  corporations  are 
said  to  be  without  souls,  they  all  have  bodies,  and  would  not  be 
likely  to  transact  business  with  one  whom  they  could  not  see." 

"  And  where  is  this  purse  ?"  asked  Mrs.  Smith. 

"  Here  it  is,"  replied  the  Gentleman  in  Black,  producing  the 
strong  well  sowed  Corduan  purse,  which  seemed  perfectly  empty. 

"  The  Gentleman  in  Black  seeing  the  surprise  of  Mrs.  Smith, 
begged  her  to  shake  it,  which  she  did,  and  immediately  it  rained 
down  a  shower  of  gold  guineas  which  lay  in  a  heap  at  her  feet. 
She  picked  up  a  handful  and  examined  them ;  they  all  wore  the 
usual  aspects  of  the  English  mint.  The  Gentleman  in  Black 
very  politely  begged  Mrs.  Smith  to  accept  a  large  handful  which 
he  had  gathered  up,  but  she  bowed  and  declined  the  gift. 

"  I  find,"  said  she,  "  the  safety  fund  bills  of  our  state  answer 
all  my  purposes  just  as  well  as  gold." 

"  But  are  they  solvent?"  asked  the  Gentleman  in  Black,  with 
earnestness. 
.    "  They  are  deemed   very  powerful    solvents,"    replied   Mrs. 


LOSES  HIS  SEVEN-LEAGUE  BOOTS.  173 

Smith,  with  a  smile ;  "  at  least  I  find  them  so.  If  you  please,  what 
became  of  Peter,  after  he  lost  his  purse?  How  did  you  trace 
him  to  this  city  ?" 

"  The  Gentleman  in  Black  now  replaced  the  gold  in  the  purse, 
which,  after  all  that  was  thus  deposited  in  it,  seemed  as  empty  as 
at  first,  and  then  carefully  put  it  up  in  his  pocket: — 

"  By  his  letters  to  his  sister,"  continued  the  Gentleman  in 
Black,  "  I  found  he  had  come  to  Babylon  ;  a  place  he  had  visited 
often,  but  which  he  now  hoped  would  offer  him  some  nook  of 
retreat  where  he  could  earn  his  subsistence,  free  from  my  pur 
suit  :  and  it  so  happened,  whether  from  design  or  accident,  he 
never  wrote  to  his  sister  what  he  was  doing,  or  where  he  made 
his  abode ;  thus  you  see  the  regaining  of  my  purse  was  more 
difficult  than  to  trace  his  steps." 

"  Yes,  I  should  deem  that  an  impossible  thing,  certainly — " 

"  It  would  have  been,  but  for  a  happy  accident  which  I  will 
now  relate  to  you.  You  are  aware,  that  he  usually  wore  an  over 
shoe  of  felt  to  take  from  his  celebrated  boots  their  seven-league 
elasticity,  and  which,  too,  had  the  important  advantage  of  making 
his  steps  unheard.  But  it  seems  they  required  a  new  pair  of 
soles,  and  not  long  since  he  ventured  to  entrust  these  precious 
boots  to  an  honest  German  to  be  mended,  sending  him  a  note 
with  half  a  guinea,  and  telling  him  to  have  his  boots  mended  and 
in  his  hand  at  11  o'clock  at  night,  when  he  would  take  them  from 
him,  giving  him  a  watchword  to  show  it  was  all  right. 

"  Now,  this  honest  German  had  a  stupid  Dutch  boy  as  his  ap 
prentice,  and  on  the  night  before  Peter  was  to  receive  them  at  the 
hands  of  the  honest  boot  mender,  the  boy  took  it  into  his  head 
to  abscond.  Having  seen  his  master  at  work  putting  a  pair  of 
English  soles  on  this  pair  of  boots,  he  thought  it  would  be  a 
bright  thought  to  try  them  on,  and  they  were  found  to  fit  admira 
bly.  So  soon  as  all  were  in  bed,  the  boy  came  down  in  his 
stocking  feet  into  the  street,  and  putting  on  Peter's  boots,  sat  out 
on  his  journey. 

[We  here  omit  the  travels  of  Jean  Paul  Feutchwanger,  narrated  by  the 
Gentleman  in  Black,  and  also  the  flight  of  Phelim  O'Brady,  by  whom  the  boots 
were  found  after  Jean  Paul  had  thrown  them  away,  on  his  return  to  Baby 
lon  ] 

"  This  great  loss  of  his  boots  occurred  to  Peter  soon  after  his 
arrival  at  Babylon.  His  grief  and  surprise  at  finding  himself  de 
frauded  of  his  boots,  was  even  greater  than  the  loss  of  his  purse. 
He  had  been  so  long  accustomed  to  the  luxury  of  wandering  at 
large,  that  a  fixed  residence  seemed  all  but  a  prison-house. 
And  he  tells  his  sister  that  now  she  must  depend  wholly  on  his 
letters,  for  they  may  never  meet  again.  This  was  a  fortunate 


174  PETER  SCHLEMIHL. 

circumstance  to  me,  as  I  was  made  better  acquainted  than  ever 
with  his  movements;  still,  I  am  inclined  to  think,  from  motives 
of  safety  or  pride,  he  kept  his  own  secrets  as  to  his  whereabouts. 

"  He  seems  to  have  been  greatly  mystified  by  all  he  saw  in  this 
city,  and  thought,  from  the  various  symbols  he  met  with  in  all 
directions,  that,  like  the  city  of  Athens,  Babylon  the  Less  was 
*  wholly  given  to  idolatry  ;'  and  even  expected  to  see  the  counter 
part  of  the  celebrated  golden  image  set  up  on  the  plains  of  Dura, 
somewhere  in  or  about  the  city." 

"He  didn't  know,  then,"  said  Mrs.  Smith,  "  that  our  idols  of 
gold  had  taken  the  wings  of  the  eagle" 

"  No,  madam;  and  if  he  had,  he  would  never  have  supposed 
that  when  so  capacitated  for  flight,  they  were  destined  to  be  kept 
caged  in  subterranean  vaults  and  sub -treasuries." 

"  To  be  sure,"  said  Mrs.  Smith,  "  where  else  could  they  be 
safely  bestowed  ?  Riches,  you  know,  are  said  to  '  take  eagles' 
wings  and  fly  away.'  Even  as  it  is,  they  sometimes  very 
strangely  disappear.  But  did  Peter  find  the  object  of  supreme 
worship  in  Babylon  the  Less  ?  if  he  did,  he  has  done  more  than 
most  folks." 

"  Yes,  madam,  after  long  search,  he  made  that  discovery." 

"  Is  it  possible  ?  pray  what  may  it  be  ?" 

"  Why,  madam,  he  says  he  heard  one  day  an  old  man 
preaching,  and  he  went  in  and  took  a  seat  in  a  vacant  pew  ;  at 
that  moment,  this  old  divine,  thumping  his  velvet  cushion  with 
a  fury  of  passion,  told  the  people  that  it  was  a  well-established 
fact,  that  *  they  were  all  idol  worshippers,  and  that  the  sole  god 
of  their  idolatry  was  the  great  number  One  ' — but  what  that 
meant,  Peter  was  all  in  doubt.  Still  he  presumed  it  would  afford 
him  a  clue  to  his  search,  and  so  he  went  about  in  the  mornings 
of  each  day,  looking  for  this  great  god,  number  One! 

"Peter's  surprise  was,  perhaps,  never  greater  than  when,  on 
entering  one  of  the  great  banking  houses  of  Change  Alley, 
(named  after  one  of  the  demi-gods  of  the  ancient  people  of 
Babylon  the  Less,)  he  saw  standing  on  the  mantles,  opposite  each 
other,  beautiful  busts  of  the  great  poets  of  England.  Their  voca 
tion  and  spheres  seemed  so  foreign  to  all  the  purposes  of  the 
place,  that  Peter  was  entirely  at  a  loss  to  unravel  such  strange 
incongruities  as  poets  and  financiers  being  so  mixed  up.  He 
went  into  other  banks,  but  found  no  such  tutelar  deities ;  all  was 
strictly  confined  to  the  severe  and  hard  aspects  of  money  making. 
He  then  came  to  the  sage  conclusion  that  this  must  be  the  centre 
of  those  stocks  called  '  fancy  stocks,'  of  which  he  had  read  in 
the  papers  of  Babylon,  and  that  the  men  who  presided  over  this 


SCULPTURES  ON  THE  UNIVERSITY.  175 

institution,  were  the  poets  of  banking,  whose  imaginations,  like 
that  of  the  poet — 

"  ' body  forth  the  forms  of  things  unknown, 

Turn  them  to  shape,  and  give  to  airy  nothing 
A  local  habitation  and  a  name.' 

"  But  if  Peter  was  mystified  by  what  he  saw  in  this  bank,  he 
was  no  less  so  by  what  he  saw  outside  of  the  University  of  Baby 
lon.  His  morning  walks  usually  carried  him  past  this  beautiful 
edifice,  and  he  found  his  attention  attracted  by  those  strange 
faces  which  peer  out  of  the  marble  over  the  windows  and  doors 
of  this  pile  of  building.*  At  first,  it  seemed  to  him  that  they 
were  symbolical  of  the  stupidity  and  obstinacy  of  the  rams'-horns 
who  were  there  trained,  and  certainly  there  never  were  beings 
sculptured  with  'foreheads'  more  'villainously  low.'  On  a  more 
careful  scrutiny  he  discovered  the  heads  of  young  puppies  cun 
ningly  looking  out  over  the  door-way,  from  the  points  of  the 
ancient  decorative  sculpture,  with  their  eyes  wide  open,  while 
the  pupils  in  question  are  represented  as  having  at  best  but 
one  eye  open,  others  are  stone  blind,  so  it  looked  as  if  the 
puppies  were  somewhat  in  advance  of  the  pupils  in  this  parti 
cular. 

"  And  phrenologically  considered,  the  chances  are  certainly  in 
their  favor,"  said  the  Gentleman  in  Black.  "  Yet  Peter  thought 
the  expression  of  extreme  suffering — the  look  of  agony  which  is 
sculptured  in  these  faces,  was  designed  to  show  these  pupils  as 
undergoing  the  ancient  and  well-tried  process  of  flagellation,  the 
posteriors  being  hid  by  the  proprieties  of  the  art  in  virgin  mar 
ble,  leaving  the  imagination  to  fill  up  the  group,  showing  the 
vigorous  Doct.  Busbys,  whose  strong  arms  and  stout  birches 
could  so  start  into  agony  the  very  stones. 

"One  day,  as  he  stood  before  the  door,  pondering  what  these 
things  could  symbolize,  he  heard  the  thunder  of  a  gong  !t  A  sound 
so  unusual  in  classic  walls  created  a  surprise  which  I  presume 
was  only  equalled  by  what  I  once  witnessed  myself  at  Boyden's 
hotel  in  the  capital  of  the  Ancient  Dominion." 

"  I  beg  you  will  tell  me  the  story  ;  it  will  serve  as  an  episode  to 
Peter's,  and  I  shall  be  gratified  with  the  illustration." 

"  Certainly,  my  dear  madam,"  replied  the  Gentleman  in  Black, 
with  one  of  his  most  attractive  smiles. 

"  I  was  spending  a  few  days  with  a  friend  who  boarded  at  Boy- 
den's,  and  was  sitting  in  a  private  parlor  which  we  occupied  to 
gether,  when  he  entered,  accompanied  by  a  young  fellow  just  from 

*  This  passage  will  be  understood  and.  appreciated  by  those  only  who 
have  seen  these  gothic  windows. 

t  A  gong  is  actually  used  to  call  the  classes  in  the  University  in  question. 


176  PETER  SCHLEMIHL. 

the  interior,  and  who  was  in  the  finest  spirits,  having  made  a 
first  rate  sale  of  his  tobacco  crop.  As  it  was  near  dinner  time, 
this  young  gentleman  said  to  us,  'Suppose  we  take  something  to 
start  an  appetite.'  *  Agreed,' said  my  friend.  'Let's  go  down  to 
the  bar  and  get  it.'  '  No,  we  might  as  well  take  it  up  here,'  was 
the  reply.  '  Good  lick  !'  said  the  countryman,  '  but  how  shall 
we  call  for  it  ?'  '  Ring  the  bell  there.'  '  What  bell  ?'  '  Pull  that 
rope  hanging  there.'  The  young  fellow  laid  hold  of  the  rope 
and  gave  it  a  jerk,  and  just  at  that  moment  the  gong  sounded  for 
dinner.  Never  had  he  heard  such  a  sound  before,  and  the  rum 
bling  crash  came  upon  his  ear  with  a  report  that  stunned  him. 
He  staggered  back  from  the  rope,  raised  both  hands  in  horror, 
and  exclaimed,  '  Great  Jerusalem,  what  a  smash  !  I've  broke 
every  piece  of  crockery  in  the  house !  There  ain't  a  whole  dish 
left !  You  must  stick  by  me,  old  fellow,'  addressing  me,  and  lay 
ing  his  hand  on  my  shoulder,  'don't  leave  me  in  this  scrape,  for 
my  whole  crop  won't  half  pay  the  breakage.  What  did  you  tell 
me  to  touch  that  cursed  rope  for?'  said  he,  turning  to  my  friend, 
who  was  all  but  bursting  with  laughter.  A  servant  entered  the 
room  at  the  instant,  and  looking  round  at  us  inquiringly,  asked — 

*  Did   you   ring   that  bell,    sir?'  addressing   the   young   tobacco 
planter.     'Bell,  no  ;  d — n  your  bell !     I  never  touched  a  bell  in 
my  life  :   what  bell  ?     I  never  saw  your  bell.'     The  waiter,  not  a 
little  surprised  at  the  earnestness  of  the  reply,  said,  '  Somebody 
rung  the  bell  in   this    room,  that's    certain.'     'No  they  didn't. 
There's  nobody  here   that  ever   saw  a  bell' — and  whispering  to 
me,  he  said  :  '  Let's  lie  him  out  of  it ;  I  sha'n't  have  a  cent  left  to 
get  home,  if  I  pay  the  entire  damage.     What  do  they  set  such 
rascally  traps  as  that  for,  to  take  in  folks  from  the  country  ?'     My 
friend  now  recovered  himself,  so  far  as  to  be  enabled  to  explain 
'  that  it  was  only  the  gong  sounding  for  dinner — a  simple  sum 
mons  to  "  walk  down  to  soup,"  got  up  on  the  Chinese  plan.'   We 
made  our  way  to  the  dining-room,  but  it  was  some  time  before  the 
young  tobacco-grower  could  get  over  the  stunning  effects  of  that 
dreadful  gong.     '  It  was  a  God-send,'  he  said,  '  that  the  crash  did 
not  turn  my  hair  gray  on  the  spot.'  ' 

Mrs.  Smith  gave  one  of  her  bright  silvery  laughs,  and  said, 
"  she  was  certain  she  should  now  be  the  better  able  to  understand 
the  surprise  of  Peter  at  the  sounding  of  a  gong  in  a  college-hall." 

"Peter,"  continued  the  Gentleman  in  Black,  "  sprung  across 
the  street,  and  in  an  instant  all  these  faces  assumed  a  new  aspect. 

*  This,'  thought  he,  '  is  a  "  Dotheboy's  Hall,"  and  this  the  signal  to 
take  their  several  doses  of  brimstone  :  or  if  it  is  broth,  they  doubt 
less  know  the  truth  of  the  old  Scotch  proverb — 

"He  that  sups  soup  with  the  De'il,  must  have  alang  ladle." 


177 

"  Nor  was  the  sign  of  the  pelican  swallowing1  the  fine  golden 
fish,  unnoticed  by  Peter,  but  what  it  meant  he  had  not  the  same 
means  of  knowing,  which,  unhappily  for  me,  I  possess.  But  of  all 
the  symbols,  which  seemed  to  him  the  most  ominous  and  fearful, 
were  the  glyphs  on  the  '  Tombs  ;'  and  as  no  Champollion  or  Lep- 
sius  had  as  yet  visited  the  city,  to  decipher  these  mystic  signs, 
our  Peter  was  left  to  find  out  what  they  indicated,  as  he  best 
could.  He  watched  the  poor  culprits  carried  there  by  the  '  star 
police,'  and,  as  they  never  returned,  he  had  fearful  forebodings  of 
their  fate.  He,  too,  saw  certain  sharp,  well-dressed  looking 
men,  with  hands  in  their  pockets,  going  in  and  out,  sometimes 
with  books  bound  in  sheep  under  their  arms,  whom  he  took  for 
the  cormorants  of  courts.  Now  the  winged  globes  over  the  grand 
entrance,  seemed  to  show  the  rapidity  with  which  the  poor  cul 
prits  were  caught  up,  and  spirited  away;  but  what  appalled  him 
most,  were  the  Gorgons,  whose  wondrous  jaws  and  saw-teeth, 
set  upon  bodies,  *  whittled  down,'  as  Sam  Slick  would  say,  '  to 
the  little  end  of  nothing,'  was  a  new  species  of  reptiles,  which 
would  have  puzzled  Cuvier  himself,  to  have  assigned  to  any 
known  order  of  animals,  or  to  have  reconstructed,  had  he  found 
their  lower  jaw  among  his  fossil  remains.  Indeed^  they  were 
all  jaw  ;  and  Peter  guessed  they  must  symbolize  certain  profes 
sional  men,  whose  length  and  strength  of  jaw  are  proverbial.* 
His  terror  was  so  great,  that  he  never  could  gain  courage  to  enter 
these  dread  portals,  which  stood  wide  open  at  all  hours  of  the 
day. 

"  My  dear  madam,  you  must  remember  that  Peter  had  nothing 
to  do  but  to  think,  and  it  will  not  surprise  you,  if  such  a  symbol 
spoke  to  him  of  human  life,  its  fortunes,  and  the  fatal  experiences 
of  man.  This  globe  wore  various  aspects  to  him,  as  often  as  he 
came  by  these  tombs,  in  his  morning  walks,  and  he,  as  often  as 
he  passed,  sought  to  decipher  this  hieroglyphic.  At  one  time, 
he  writes  his  sister,  they  seemed  to  speak  of  the  vanity  of 
human  desires,  blown  up  from  those  slippery  saponaceous  mix 
tures  of  air  and  water,  which  Hope  so  well  knows  how  to  place 
in  the  hands  of  children,  of  all  ages;  and  though  the  containing 
vessel  of  some,  is  of  earth,  while  others  are  made  happy  by 
bowls  of  great  beauty  of  shape  and  of  tint,  and  a  few  hold  vases 
of  crystal,  or  of  gold,  yet  all  are  alike  full,  and  a  straw,  as  well 
as  a  golden  pipe,  answers  all  the  purposes  of  blowing  up  these 

*  Those  who  are  residents  of  this  great  city,  will  be  best  able  to  judge  of 
the  truthfulness  of  the  Gentleman  in  Black's  description  of  these  symbols  in 
Babylon  the  Less.  This  building  is  of  the  Egyptian  style  of  architecture,  and 
contains  the  Police  and  Criminal  Courts,  and  the  city  prison.  All  executions 
take  place  in  the  central  court. 
12 


178  PETER  SCHLEMIHL. 

beautiful  bubbles.  And  then  how  exquisitely  beautiful  the  globes, 
as  they  ascend  above  our  heads  !  so  soon,  alas,  to  be  broken. 
Then,  again,  the  symbol  spoke  to  Peter  of  the  fairness,  round 
ness,  and  completeness  of  human  hopes,  while  the  nondescript 
reptiles  pictured  the  grim  realities  of  life,  by  which  all  such  airy 
dreams  are  soon  and  forever  destroyed. 

"  The  next  time,  however,  the  globe  pictured  the  helplessness 
of  a  poor  man,  hemmed  in  with  the  ravening  wolves  of  social 
life;  he  has  no  powers  of  resistance,  but  must  endure  the  process 
of  mastication,  of  those  who  are  so  happy  as  to  be  possessed  of 
jaws  full  of  teeth.  Society  seemed  to  him  divided  into  two 
great  divisions — those  with  teeth,  and  those  without ;  or  the  fed, 
and  the  unfed.  That  society  was  striving  to  fulfil,  in  this  life, 
the  retributions  of  God,  in  the  world  to  come ;  enriching  those 
who  have,  by  the  spoils  of  those  who  only  seem  to  have,  so 
little  do  they  possess. 

"  And  then,  by  another  twist  of  his  mental  kaleidoscope,  these 
symbols  spoke  of  the  awards  of  human  laws.  These  claim  to 
be  the  perfection  of  reason,  but,  as  in  these  sculptures,  these  laws 
were  devoured  by  those  who  administered  them,  and  who,  so  Peter 
thought,  were  pictured  in  the  reptiles.  And,  the  winding  up  of 
all  these  cogitations  was,  that  his  first  impressions  must  be  the 
true  elucidation;  that  the  defenceless  globe  was  the  personifica 
tion  of  the  culprit,  or  client,  as  the  case  may  chance  to  be,  and 
the  reptiles,  those  well  known  gentlemen,  who,  however  nice 
they  can  be  at  words,  never  mince  matters  when  dealing  with 
cJioses,  and  never  were  known  to  make  two  bites  of  a  cherry. 

"  Peter  deeply  felt  the  solitude  of  this  vast  city,  in  which  he 
was  living,  without  a  single  object  upon  which  to  expend  his  af 
fections  and  sympathies.  And  his  utmost  hopes  were  bounded 
by  obtaining  a  subsistence,  by  some  means,  not  unworthy  of  his 
principles.  Weary  with  his  long  walks  in  a  hot  sun,  and  amid 
crowded  streets,  filled  with  busy  men  and  women,  who  passed 
him,  unconscious  of  his  existence,  and  caring  nothing  for  him,  if 
they  had  seen  him ;  all  of  whom,  probably,  had  their  firesides, 
and  families,  and  familiar  friends ;  with  a  deep  sense  of  his  own 
destitution  of  all  that  made  life  happy,  seeing  a  Gothic  church 
open,  Peter  walked  in.  Here  he  was  released  in  a  moment,  from 
the  glare  of  day.  The  hum  of  life  was  heard,  only  to  heighten 
the  sense  of  seclusion,  from  the  whirlpool  of  existence  by  which 
he  had  been  surrounded  and  oppressed.  Peter  advanced  up  the 
aisle,  and  took  a  seat  near  the  altar.  The  silence,  and  dim  reli 
gious  twilight  shed  their  soothing  influence  over  his  spirit,  and  he 
looked  around  to  admire  the  grandeur  of  the  building,  and  grate 
ful  emotions  rose  in  his  soul,  that  such  a  home  for  the  miserable 


179 

had  been  erected,  and  opened  in  the  centre  of  this  great  city, 
where  the  outcast  and  the  wretched  could  come  and  commune 
with  God;  where  all  spoke  of  the  future  and  eternal  world. 

"  In  a  reverie,  Peter  recalled  the  days  of  his  childhood — the  forms 
of  his  parents,  long  since  dead — the  hopes  of  his  boyhood — the 
warm  friendships  of  those  bright  and  buoyant  days,  when  the 
world  was  all  open  before  him,  and  hope  pictured  years  of  com 
ing  happiness.  And  he  remembered  his  disappointments ;  how 
death  had  removed  from  him  the  objects  of  his  love  and  friend 
ship  ;  and  that  life  had  now  become  to  him  '  a  stern  task  of  soul, 
renewed  with  no  kind  auspices;'  that  long  since,  to  him,  the 
disenchanted  earth  had  lost  its  lustre.  He  asked  himself: — 

"'  Where  now  her  glittering  tow'rs,  her  golden  mountains  where? 
All  darkened  down  to  naked  waste — a  dreary  vale  of  years!'/' 

After  a  moment's  pause,  in  which  the  Gentleman  in  Black 
seemed  lost  in  thoughts  which  may  have  been  busy  with  the 
bright  days  of  his  own  youth,  he  continued  : — 

"  There  are  moments,  madam,  in  which  one's  whole  life  is 
brought  visibly  before  the  mind,  and  the  links  of  destiny  are  all 
brightly  and  distinctly  seen.  Such  do  not  often  recur,  and  can 
by  no  mental  power  be  created  or  renewed.  Like  the  lightning's 
flash,  they  show  the  vista  of  by-gone  life,  and  then  all  is  swal 
lowed  up  in  deeper  darkness.  In  such  a  reverie,  Peter  scanned 
the  past,  and  sighed,  as  he  said  to  himself — '  happy  the  man  who 
cannot  remember  the  one  event  that  made  him  old!'* 

"And,  as  he  thought  of  his  childhood,  by  some  slight  attenuated 
thread  of  association,  he  says,  there  arose  the  remembrance  of 
those  beautiful  golden-paper-covered-picture-books,  which  that 
most  amiable  of  gentlemen,  Mr.  John  Newbury,  the  'Peter 
Parley'  of  his  day,  sent  in  ship-loads  from  his  shop  in  St.  Paul's 
Church  yard,  London ;  and  which  he  was  sure  to  find  among  his 
New  Year's  presents — and  the  stories  of  his  childhood  came  up, 
of  Cinderella  and  her  slipper — Robinson  Crusoe,  and  his  man 
Friday — and  the  dreadful  Blue  Beard  and  his  beautiful  lady ;  and 
as  his  thoughts  ran  over  these  stories,  musing,  he  says,  '  How 
like  life  was  the  history  of  this  sweet  lady!  Doubtless,  when 
Blue  Beard  went  to  his  wedding,  he  arranged  himself  in  all  the 
enchanting  splendor  of  baronial  nobility,  and  the  fair  one,  whom 
he  brought  home,  looked  upon  life  in  his  splendid  castle,  as  the 

*  Sismondi  relates,  that  Guirano  Veronese  having  spent  some  years  at  Con 
stantinople,  brought  from  thence  two  cases  of  Greek  manuscripts,  the  fruits 
of  his  indefatigable  researches,  of  which  he  lost  one  in  a  shipwreck;  the  grief 
of  seeing  the  labor  of  years  lost  in  a  moment,  turned  his  hair  gray  in  one 
night.  The  same  change  of  her  hair  in  a  single  night  is  related  of  Maria  An 
toinette,  Queen  of  France. 


180  PETER  SCHLEMIHL. 

happiest  on  earth.  But  she  must  obey  the  resistless  impulse  of 
her  nature,  and  entered  the  secret  and  awful  chamber,  and  saw 
the  mangled  corpses  of  women  on  the  floor,  weltering  in  blood — 
then  came  the  terrible  certainty,  that  in  a  short  time  the  same 
fate  awaited  her,  and  the  treacherous  key  fell  from  her  quivering 
hand.'  Such,  he  says  to  his  sister,  would  be  the  terror  of  all, 
could  they  turn  from  the  flower  garden  of  life,  to  its  damp,  and 
shade,  and  wretchedness.  Life  has  indeed  a  most  melancholy 
reverse!*  And  tears  filled  his  eyes,  as  he  remembered  what  he 
had  been,  might  have  been,  and  what  he  was. 

"  While  thus  musing,  the  people  assembled  for  morning  prayers, 
and  Peter  was  aroused  by  the  recitation  of  that  *  form  of  sound 
words'  to  which  he  had  so  often  listened  in  childhood.  '  All  is 
not  changed!'  he  mentally  exclaimed,  *  there  is  yet  something 
which  defies  the  tooth  of  time,  and  stands  the  test  of  human  scru 
tiny  !'  The  service  never  seemed  so  venerable,— -simple,  sooth 
ing  and  sublime.  He  felt  its  stern  contempt  of  all  ornament,  that 
meretricious  millinery  of  words,  by  which  all  that  is  grand  is 
grotesqued  by  modern  refinement;  and  there  arose  too  the  thought, 

*  that  these  were  the  prayers  which  had  been  inspired  by  the 
flames  of  persecution,  and  the  chariots  of  fire  which  had  borne 
the  souls  of  martyrs  to  the  paradise  of  God.' 

"  It  chanced  to  be  a  Friday  morning,  and  the  litany  was  in  due 
order  of  the  rubric  recited^and  Peter  writes,  that  when  the  priest 
commenced  the  reading  of  this  part  of  the  service  for  the  day,  it 
seemed  in  exact  accordance  with  the  melancholy  of  his  own  soul. 

*  Alas  !'  he  says,  '  how  few  hearts  are  ever  placed  in  conditions  of 
existence  which  give  them  the  power  of  appreciating  the  depth 
of  sorrow — the  pangs  of  contrition,  the  wailing  cry  of  agony, 
which  finds  in  these  dreadful  appeals  to  the  throne  of  God,  the 
fitting  and  natural  expressions  of  their  own  cries  and  tears.' 

"He  adds  —  'It  is  not  because  the  service  of  the  church  is 
wanting  in  unction  and  fervor,  but  because  its  language  is  expres 
sive  of  an  elevation  and  spirituality  few  Christians  ever  attain, 
that  it  becomes  of  necessity  a  ritual  of  mere  routine,  and  this  is 
the  reason  why  in  the  most  fashionable  of  the  English  churches, 
the  litany  is  committed  to  the  choir  to  be  sung  with  artistic  skill 
and  modulation.'  ' 

"  But  why  ?"  said  Mrs.  Smith.     "  I  do  not  see,  do  you  ?" 
"  I  suppose  if  Peter  were  present,"  replied  the  Gentleman  in 
Black,  "  he  would  tell  you,  that  there  can  be  in  the  souls  of  pros 
perous  men  and  women,  no  real  sympathy  in  appeals  to  heaven's 

*  This  allusion  to  Blue  Beard,  is  taken  from  "  The  Christian  in  Plato,''  by 
Ackerman. 


THE  GOTHIC  CHURCH  OF  BABYLON.  181 

majesty,  only  suited  to  souls  struggling  and  in  peril,  as  in  the  storms 
of  life,  or  sinking  in  the  agonies  of  expiring  nature:  and  I  doubt 
not,  madam,  that  it  was  this  want  of  sympathy  between  the  prayer 
book  and  those  who  were  enforced  to  use  it,  that  led  to  the  great 
civil  wars  of  England." 

"  Well,  this  idea  has  all  the  charm  of  novelty  to  me,"  said  Mrs. 
Smith. 

"  We  will  not  discuss  that  now,"  said  the  Gentleman  in  Black, 
"  and  if  you  please,  we  will  go  back  to  Peter." 

"  With  all  pleasure,"  said  Mrs.  Smith,  with  her  sweet  smile. 

"  The  service  being  over,  the  assembly  dispersed,  and  Peter 
looked  at  them  as  they  gradually  disappeared  with  a  feeling  of 
sadness,  for  he  was  as  much  at  home  in  that  silent  church  as  in  any 
place  in  the  wide  world ;  so  he  retained  his  seat.  Nor  was  he 
alone  in  doing  so,  for  near  him  was  a  party  of  three  ladies  and 
four  young  girls,  all  very  gracefully  dressed,  and  distinguished 
for  beauty  and  bright  and  speaking  eyes.  They  evidently  had 
remained  to  examine  the  architectural  embellishments  of  the 
church.  The  eldest  of  the  party  acted  as  the  cicerone,  as  they 
came  up  slowly  toward  where  Peter  was  now  standing;  when 
their  attention  was  attracted  to  the  splendid  painted  window,  to 
which  the  cicerone  pointed  with  her  sun  shade,  while  indicating 
the  figures  of  the  evangelists,  aided  by  the  emblematic  figures  of 
the  lion,  the  ox  and  eagle,  and  lest  these  should  fail,  the  artist 
had  helped  the  looker-up  by  scrolls,  on  which  the  names  of  Mark 
and  John  are  printed. 

"  *  The  figure  at  the  right  of  our  Saviour,'  said  the  lady,  with 
a  voice  of  great  beauty  and  refinement  of  tone,  '  is  St.  Peter,  to 
whom  were  committed,  as  you  see,  the  keys  of  heaven  and  hell.' 

''  One  of  the  ladies  looked  up  and  smiled  very  significantly. 
*  My  dear  Virginia,'  said  the  cicerone,  '  what  amuses  you  in  the 
picture?  is  it  the  drawing  or  coloring?' 

"  '  Well,  Alice,  I  don't  admire  such  muscles  in  a  picture  of  a 
saint,  that's  true;  but  I'm  surprised  that  you  should  have  re 
stored  the  keys  to  Peter.  I  thought  they  were  taken  away  from 
him  a  long  time  ago.  The  last  I  heard  of  them  they  were,  where 
I'm  willing  they  should  remain,  in  the  hands  of  our  Saviour.'* 

"  *  My  dear  friend,  how  ignorant  you  are  of  the  Holy  Scrip 
tures,  and  of  the  universal  belief  of  the  church.1 

'  Not  so  ignorant,  dear  Alice,  as  you  may  imagine.  The  keys, 
I  believe,  were  given  Peter  before  his  sad  apostacy,  and  I  read  in 
the  Apocalypse  that  our  blessed  Saviour  says.  "  I  open  and  no 
man  shutteth !  I  have  the  keys  of  death  and  hell !"  Now,  for 

*  See  Revelations,  chap,  i.,  5th  verse. 


182  PETER  SCHLEMIHL. 

my  part,  I  was  never  well  satisfied  that  Peter  should  have  the 
keys  in  question.  I  fear,  from  his  conduct  at  Antioch,  he  would 
have  left  us  Heathens  in  our  blindness  to  worship  wood  and  stone.' 

"  '  How  can  you  say  such  things  of  one  of  the  Holy  Apostles, 
Virginia?' 

"  *  I  say  nothing  but  what  I  find  in  the  Acts  of  the  Apostles. 
I  suppose  you  deem  that  good  authority.' 

"  '  Good  authority,  if  rightly  interpreted,'  replied  the  cicerone  ; 
'and  the  true  interpreter  of  the  Scriptures  is  the  Church;  and 
it  is  the  universal  tradition  of  the  Holy  Catholic  Church  that 
Peter  has  the  keys,  and  they  are,  therefore,  so  represented  in  the 
window  above  us.' 

"  *  I  think,  Alice,  it  would  have  been  more  modest  in  Peter, 
after  what  happened,  even  if  he  had  retained  them,  to  have  put 
these  keys  in  his  pocket.' 

"  4  Oh,  you  are  a  dissenter,*  Virginia,  of  the  Old  School  of  the 
Ancient  Dominion,  the  most  deeply  dyed  in  the  dark  blue  of 
Presbyterianism.  I've  little  hope  of  your  conversion.' 

"  '  Yes,  I  do  dissent  to  Peter's  having  the  keys  of  heaven  or 
hell,  Apostle  though  he  be,  aided  and  abetted  by  the  universal 
Popish  Church.' 

*'  *  Universal  Popish  Church  !    What  do  you  mean,  Virginia  ?' 

"  '  Didn't  you  just  say  that  the  universal  Popish  Church  held 
that  Peter  had  the  keys,  and  doesn't  the  Pope  claim  to  hold  these 
very  keys  as  his  successor?'  replied  Mrs.  Virginia. 

"  *  I  said,  Virginia,  it  was  the  belief  of  the  Universal  Holy 
Catholic  Church;  I  didn't  speak  of  the  Roman  Schismatical 
Church.' 

"  *  Oh!  this  is  news  !  Well,  dear  Alice,  where  is  this  "  Holy 
Catholic  Church,"  whose  traditions  are  a  little  in  advance  of 
Holy  Writ?'  said  Mrs.  Virginia. 

"  '  The  Holy  Catholic  Church  is  the  Church  of  the  Apostles, 
wherever  it  exists,  of  which  the  Anglican  Church,  from  whence 
we  come,  is,  perhaps,  the  purest  of  all;  unless  it  be  our  own 
Episcopal  Church.' 

"  The  third  lady,  who  had  been  gazing  upward  and  around 
without  any  attention  to  this  discussion,  now  asked  the  cicerone, 
'  whose  figure  that  was  designed  for  with  the  long  double-handed 
executioner's  sword,  on  the  extreme  left  of  the  Saviour?' 

"  *  That,9  replied  the  lady,  4is  St.  Paul  with  the  sword.' 

*'  '  And  why  put  a  sword  into  the  hand  of  Paul,  Alice  ?'  said 
Mrs.  Virginia.  4  Who  but  Paul  possessed  the  "  gentleness  of 
Christ?"  ' 

*  The  Bishop  of  Connecticut,  in  a  late  charge,  so  calls  all  other  religionists. 


COLLOQUY  OF  LADIES  AS  TO  THE  SYMBOLS.         183 

"  '  Ah !'  replied  the  cicerone,  '  but  that  is  the  sword  of  the 
Spirit.' 

"  'But  why  select  a  sword  for  the  symbol  of  the  Holy  Spirit? 
The  Holy  Spirit  selected  a  dove  with  its  white  wings  and  gentle 
movements,  and  why  change  the  symbol  for  an  ill-shapen  sword, 
which  looks  more  like  an  old-fashioned  spit  of  the  kitchen  ?' 

"'  Dear  Virginia,  are  you  not  captious  ?  St.  Paul  speaks  him 
self  of  the  "sword  of  the  Spirit."  ' 

"  '  Yes,'  replied  Virginia,  *  so  he  does ;  but  is  the  sword  a  sym 
bol  for  Paul  ?  There's  Luke  with  his  patient  ox,  Matthew  with 
his  lion,  John  with  his  eagle — not  that  I  see  anything  in  these 
emblems  significant  of  their  characters ;  but  let  that  pass;  Paul, 
with  a  high  two-handed  sword,  is  not  Paul  of  the  New  Testa 
ment,  whose  soul  was  the  seat  of  every  noble  and  tender  affec 
tion,  whose  love  was  God-like  beyond  all  that  is  recorded  in  man; 
whose  spirit  was  melting  \vith  sympathy,  and  whose  heart  was 
the  living  temple  of  the  Holy  Ghost;  the  only  man  that  ever  lived 
who  could  say — "  Walk  as  ye  have  us  for  an  example?"  Who 
but  Paul  could  say — "We  have  the  mind  of  Christ !"  ' 

** '  Don't  you  think,  Virginia,'  said  the  youngest  of  the  three 
ladies,  '  that  it  would  be  more  characteristic  to  have  put  the 
sword  into  Peter's  hand?' 

"  *  Yes,'  replied  her  friend  Virginia  ;  *  if  any  one  should  be  so 
represented,  it  should  be  Peter,  though  I  think  he  wore  his,  when 
in  Pilate's  palace,  under  his  cloak ;  where  I  would  advise  his 
keys  should  now  be  kept.' 

44  *  Poor  Peter,'  replied  the  cicerone,  '  you  really  have  a  sad 
spite  against  him ;  but  you  will  be  very  glad  to  have  him  open  to 
you  the  gates  of  Paradise.' 

"  'I've  no  doubt  I  shall  revere  and  love  the  Apostle  Peter  in 
heaven,  if  I  am  ever  so  happy  as  to  get  there,'  said  Virginia ; 
'  and  I  love  his  epistles  now,  for  they  breathe  the  spirit  of  deep 
humility,  which  his  successors  would  do  well  to  imitate.' 

"  '  Tell  me,  dear  Alice,'  said  Mrs.  Virginia,  '  what  those  cha 
racters  symbolize  in  the  compartment  immediately  over  the  head 
of  the  Saviour ;  they  look  like  some  such  characters  as  I  have  in 
an  old  book  on  Astrology.' 

"  Mrs.  Alice  looked  up,  evidently  in  doubt.  '  I  think  they  must 
be  Greek  characters,  of  an  old  style,  perhaps,  and  if  so,  then  they 
stand  for  Alpha  and  Omega,  though  I  really  don't  know.' 

"  '  Well,  suppose  it  were  so,'  said  Virginia;  '  what  would  they 
then  signify  ?' 

"  ''The  Church!  the  beginning  and  the  end;  which  is,  as  you 
know,  "  the  pillar  and  ground  of  the  truth,"  '  replied  Mrs.  Alice. 

"'lithe  Truth  had  no  better  foundation  than  the  Church  to  rest 


184  PETER  SCHLEMIHL. 

upon,  the  pillar  of  the  Truth  would  have  been  in  all  ages  a  lean 
ing  tower,  to  which  that  at  Pisa  would  have  been  a  poor  com 
parison.' 

"  '  My  dear  Virginia,  doesn't  the  Bible  say  so  ?'  said  Mrs. 
Alice. 

"  '  Certainly,  it  does  not,"1  replied  the  Presbyterian  Virginia. 

"  '  Well,  dear  Virginia,  let's  leave  that  till  we  get  home.' 

"  The  young  ladies  now  pointed  out  to  the  frequent  signs  which 
they  read  as  repetitions  of  ttye,*  and  asked  of  Mrs.  Berkley  what 
they  could  mean. 

"  '  I  presume,'  said  Mrs.  Berkley,  *  they,  like  the  letters  over 
the  Saviour,  indicate  the  one  Church — the  Church !'  The 
young  ladies  bowed,  and  doubtless  deemed  the  answer  satis 
factory;  as  to  the  other  ladies,  they  were  at  the  moment  engaged 
in  speaking  together,  and  did  not  catch  the  conversation  with  the 
girls. 

"At  this  moment,  a  fine  bright-looking  negro  girl  came  up  with 
a  brave  baby  boy  in  her  arms,  who  was  crying  with  the  finest 
lungs  in  the  world,  and  said — *  O  Missis,  Masser  Jeames  has 
been  kicking  and  crying  dis  hour,  he's  so  ongry.' 

"  '  Come  here,  you  little  villain,'  said  the  gay-hearted  mother, 
*  you  shall  be  fed.' 

" '  My  dear  Marion,  you  don't  mean  to  suckle  your  child  in  the 
church  ?'  said  the  Episcopal  lady. 

" '  In  the  church,'  said  the  lady,  looking  round  to  see  if  there 
were  any  spectators,  and  seeing  none,  she  said,  *  yes,  and  why 
not?' 

** '  But,  my  dear,  the  proprieties  of  the  place  would  seem  to 
forbid  it.' 

"  '  Proprieties  of  the  place!  Bless  me,  I  wish  the  people  that 
come  here  to  worship  may  be  as  desirous  of  "  the  sincere  milk  of 
the  word,"  as  my  boy  is  of  his  mother's  milk;  I  reckon  they  will 
be  far  better  Christians  than  they  now  are.' 

"  And  so  saying,  she  carried  off  her  boy  to  a  pew  not  far  off 
near  the  wall,  and  soon  hushed  his  uproar  by  giving  him  all  he 
wished,  and  her  kisses  and  smiles  besides:  and  Peter  says  he 
was  never  so  conscious  of  the  music  of  those  sweet  sounds  given 
out  by  a  hungry  baby,  when  smothered  and  satisfied  in  the 
bosom  of  a  young  mother." 

Mrs.  Smith  sighed  deeply,  as  the  Gentleman  in  Black  spoke  of 
joys  of  which  she  knew  nothing.  There  was  something  malicious 
in  his  eye,  as  he  saw  her  lids  close,  and  the  tear  welling  up  under 

*  This  symbol  read  t.  I).  £.,  as  most  persons  read  it,  is,  in  fact,  the  Gothic 
letters  i,h.  S. — PETEB.  SCHLEMIHL. 


BAPTISMAL  REGENERATION.  185 

the  lids  unshed.     Lest  he  had  gone  too  far,  he  proceeded  with 
his  narration : — 

"  '  My  dear  Alice,  do  you  believe  that  children  are  regenerated 
in  baptism  ?'  asked  the  Presbyterian  lady. 

"  *  Certainly  I  do.     It  is  distinctly  affirmed  in  our  catechism.' 

"  '  And  is  'it  possible  that  all  that  our  Saviour  meant  in  his 
conversation  with  Nicodemus,  and  which  excited  his  astonish 
ment,  can  admit  of  so  simple  a  solution.' 

"  *  It  is  the  only  regeneration  which  the  Church  has  any 
knowledge  of,'  replied  Mrs.  Berkley. 

"  '  I  fear  it  may  be  so,  indeed,'  was  the  reply.  *  But  it  may, 
perhaps,  be  that  the  Bible  may  demand  something  which  the 
Church  does  not ;  and  if  it  should,  how  fearful  will  be  the  mis 
take.  I  knew  it  was  so  stated  in  the  prayer-book,  but  I  thought 
the  evangelical  Christians  of  your  Church  did  all  they  could  to 
counteract  such  a  papistical  dogma.'* 

"  'Dear  Virginia,  we  have  known  of  no  such  distinctions  as 
you  speak  of.  One  must  be  in  the  Church  or  out  of  it ;  if  they 
are  in  the  Church,  they  are  Christians.' 

"  *  But,  Alice,  everybody  baptized  cannot  be  regenerated.' 

"  'I  do  not  know  how  better  I  can  reply  to  you,  dear  Alice, 
than  in  the  words  of  Bishop  Brownell's  charge  to  his  clergy  : 
"The  change  of  state,  effected  in  baptism,  is  called,  in  Scripture, 
and  in  the  language  of  the  baptismal  office,  regeneration." 

"  '  But,  my  dear,  do  we  mean  the  same  thing  ?  By  regenera 
tion  I  mean  a  change  of  our  spiritual  nature,  the  implantation  of 
holiness  as  a  divine  principle,  and  which  leads  us  on  to  eternal 
life,  through  daily  renewals  of  grace,  to  a  life  of  glory.' 

"  '  I  presume  we  may  not  mean  the  same  thing,  for  I  don't 
understand  you  ;  but  Bishop  Hobart,  whose  pious  hands  con 
firmed  me  before  the  altar  which  once  stood  on  this  sacred  spot, 
taught  us,  in  the  sermon  he  preached  on  that  occasion,  that  "in 

*  The  Rev.  Dr.  Stone,  of  Christ  Church,  Brooklyn,  in  a  work  entitled  "  The 
Mysteries  Opened,  or  Scriptural  Views  of  Preaching  and  the  Sacraments,  as  dis 
tinguished  from  certain  Theories  concerning  Baptismal  Regeneration  and  the 
Real  Presence,"  says,  page  245,  "  The  great  law  of  interpretation,  so  important 
to  us  as  Protestant  Episcopalians,  which  I  find  in  the  writings  of  the  late 
venerable  Bishop  Griswold,  is  this :  That  in  cases  of  apparent  conflict,  '  the 
Prayer  Book  must  be  explained  into  an  agreement  with  the  Bible,  and  not 
the  Bible  into  an  agreement  with  the  Prayer  Book.'  If  the  two  appear  to  dif 
fer,  much  more,  if  they  really  do  differ,  the  human  must  bow  to  the  divine. 
It  were  impious  to  force  the  divine  to  do  obeisance  to  the  human.  And  that 
the  theory  of  baptismal  regeneration,  as  I  have  exhibited  it  from  the  writings 
of  its  actually  greatest  masters,  does,  not  only  apparently,  but  actually  and 
irreconcilably  differ  from  the  true  sense  of  the  Scripture,  is  a  position  which 
has,  I  humbly  conceive,  been  sufficiently  demonstrated." 


186  PETER  SCHLEMIHL. 

the  sacrament  of  baptism  we  are  taken  from  the  world,  where  we 

had  no  title  to  the  favor  of  God,  and  placed  in  a  state  of  salvation 

y      in  the  Christian  Church.*     And,  also,  **  that  this  was  the  only 

mode  through  which  we  could  be  admitted  into  the  covenant  with 

God  ;  the  only  mode  through  which  we  could  obtain   a  title  to 

those  blessings   and  privileges  which  Christ  had  purchased  for 

1  his  mystical  body,  the  Church,  is  the  Sacrament  of  fiaptism."  ' 

"  '  My  dear  Alice,  if  I  could  believe  this,  what  a  state  of  mind 

^  I  should  be  reduced  to.' 

"  *  Just  the  state  in  which  I  could  wish  to  see  you,  Virginia.' 
"  '  See  me,  Alice  !  why  I  should  be  all  but  mad.' 
"  'About  what?    I  see  nothing  to  excite  frenzy,  but  everything 
to  inspire  peace  and  assurance.     If  Christ  has  given  this  grace 
to  His  Church,  to  be  conferred  by  His  Apostles  and  their  succes- 
V^      sors,  you  have  only  to  know   that  you  have  been  baptized  to 
\      know  that  you  are  regenerated.     Now  you  have  nothing  better 
J<r.     than  the  present  condition  of  your  religious  affections,  which  are 
varying  every  hour  in  the  day.' 

"  *  My  dear  Alice,  let  us  be  serious,  for  I  feel  it  indeed  matter 

?5     for  sobriety  of  speech.     'Tis  true,  as  you  say,  my  religious  feel 

ings  vary,  but  I  hope  my  faith  is  centered  in  the  atonement  of 

the  Lord  Jesus  Christ;  that  He  is  my  prophet,  priest,  and  king, 

whom,  with  all  these  changes  of  affection,  is   yet  the   object  of 

my  highest  reverence  and  supreme  love  ;  and  that  I  do  so  love 

him,  I  regard  now,  and  ever  shall  rely  on  it,  as  the  highest  and 

-v     best  evidence,  the  evidence  of  consciousness  that  I  am,  with  ten 

^     thousand  faults  and  sins,  adopted  into  his  family,  and  have  been 

\  .    regenerated   by  the  Holy  Ghost,  sent  down  from  Heaven,  the 

N      gift  of  His  love,  and  the  fruit  of  His  intercession.     But  if  I  held 

the  views  which  you   have  just  expressed,  and  could  not  (as  I 

^j      trust  you  do  as  truly  as  myself),  read  my  title  to  the  skies,  in 

these  evidences  of  a  new  nature  engrafted  by  the  Holy  Ghost, 

!X      but  was   compelled  to  rely  on  the  fact  of  my  having  been  bap 

tized,  by  one  properly  authorized  to  do  so,  as  a  successor  of  the 

Apostles  of  our  Lord,  my  anxieties  would  be  far  beyond  a  crew 

4;       at  sea,  in  a  ship  without  a  compass  or  a  chart.' 

*'  '  My  dear  Virginia,  all   this   would  be  very   true,  but  our 
Church  has  indubitable  evidence  of  a  divine  succession.' 

"  '  Indubitable  evidence,  dearest,  in   a  matter  on  which  your 
*\       soul's  salvation  depends,  is,  of  all  things,  most  necessary,  and  I 
S>       had  supposed  this  could  only  exist  in  the  deep  convictions  of 
one's  own  soul.' 

*   Sermon  on  Confirmation,  page  26. 


:   <  ,-,//• 

i 


BAPTISMAL  REGENERATION.  187 

"  *  How  can  you  trust  the  convictions  of  a  nature  you  hold  to 
be  totally  depraved  ?' 

K;      "  *  True,  I  may  be  self-deceived.     I  often  fear  I  am  ;  but  yet 
this  is  better  than  the  broken  chain  on  which  your  hopes  (theo- 
J  retically,  I  hope  and  believe),  rely;  in  comparison  with  which,  it 
may  well  be  said,  "  the  spider's  most  attenuated  thread  is  cord — is 
^  cable."     My  confidence  does  not  rest  on  my  feelings.     The  sun 
shines,  Alice,  though   clouds  intercept  my  clear  and  comfortable 
view  of  it.     But  now,  Alice,  tell  me,  are  you  certain  you  have 
been  baptized?' 

"  'I  have  a  copy  of  the  record,  under  the  seal  of  the  Reverend 
Verdant  Green,  by  whom  I  was  baptized,'  replied  the  lady 
gravely. 

"  *  Then  as  a  first  step,  your  confidence  rests  on  the  truth  of 
i  this  certificate.  But  how  do  you  know  the  Reverend  Verdant 
J  Green  was  duly  authorized  to  baptize  you  ?' 

"  '  Ah  !  my  dear  Virginia,  you  are  going  into  a  dispute  about 
J     the  apostolical  succession ;  that  is  really  a  very  long  topic,  and 
one  about  which  1  am  sure  you  and  I  shall  never  agree.' 

"  'Perhaps  not;  but  let  me  ask,  what  are  the  requisites  of  a 
,  single  priest  in  order  to  his  being  "  an  ambassador  of  Christ,  duly 
empowered  to  act,  and  to  represent  him  on  earth,"  and  so  confer 
"  the  divinely  appointed  blessings  of  salvation,  and  the  gifts  of  the 
Holy  Spirit,  in  the  sacraments,  word  and  ordinances  of  the 
Church,"*  commencing  with  " regeneration  in  baptism?"1 

"  '  Well,  that  is  a  specific  question,  and  I  will  attempt  to  answer 
it.  A  priest,  then,  must  have  been  himself  baptized  by  an  Epis 
copal  priest,  confirmed  by  an  Episcopal  bishop,  ordained  by  a 
bishop  who  himself  has  been  ordained  by  not  less  than  duly  or 
dained  bishops  of  the  Episcopal  church.' 

"  '  Indeed  !  the  chances  of  a  broken  link  in  this  golden  chain 
grow  in  geometrical  progression  as  you  go  on.  And  I  very  much 
fear  there  has  been  some  link  broken  in  the  centuries  which  have 
elapsed  since  the  days  of  Peter  and  Paul;  and  will  only  say  I 
cannot  conceive  how  such  wretched  quicksand,  as  I  deem  all  this 
to  be,  can  be  assumed  as  the  foundation  of  hopes  on  which  rest 
our  eternal  destinies.  "  And  supposing  it  granted  that  the  alleged 
commission  was  regularly  transmitted  in  later  times,— admitting 
that  the  chain  may  be  traced  through  the  lower  and  later  portions 
of  its  length,  yet  the  higher  links  are  absolutely  wanting, — the 
sole  material  part  of  the  evidence  is  totally  deficient.  If  a  suc 
cession  be  proved,  it  is  still  not  apostolic."  '  t 

*  The  words  marked  as  quoted,  are  Dr.  Seabury's. 
•j-  Westminster  Review,  for  June  1846,  p.  167. 


188  PETER  SCHLEMIHL.     . 

"  Here  the  lovely  Marion  came  up  with  her  baby,  crowing  and 
clapping  his  hands,  and  presenting  him  to  the  Episcopal  lady,  said, 
*  Isn't  he  a  cherub?' 

"  The  lady  kissed  him  very  fondly,  and  patting  his  cheeks,  re 
plied,  '  He  is  a  very  precious  child,  but  I  do  not  like  to  call  him 
by  so  sacred  a  name.' 

"  'Sacred!  Why,  dear  Alice,  are  not  all  the  cherubs  of  the 
Holy  Catholic  Church  babies  about  the  size  of  my  boy?  If  they 
are  half  as  beautiful  as  he  is,  they  will  be  among  the  prettiest  of 
all  God's  creatures.  None  that  I  have  seen  on  canvas,  is  to  be 
compared  with  him.'  So  saying,  she  dumped  her  baby  into  the 
basin  near  which  they  were  standing,  where  he  sat  as  merry  as 
Puck  upon  the  toadstool  in  Sir  Joshua  Reynolds'  celebrated  pic 
ture,  while  she  employed  herself  in  arranging  her  dress,  deranged 
by  her  recent  avocation. 

"'Why,  Marion!'  cried  the  Episcopal  lady,  'what  strange 
uses  you  make  of  the  sacred  symbols  of  our  church.' 

"  The  lady  looked  inquiringly  first  at  her  boy,  then  at  the  lady, 
evidently  unconscious  of  what  new  act  of  sacrilege  she  had  com 
mitted  ;  and  hastily  taking  her  child  into  her  arms,  she  for  the 
first  time  discovered  the  baptismal  font,  into  which  she  had  so 
irreverently  seated  him.  She  asked,  with  a  sort  of  breathless 
anxiety,  'and  is  this  the  bowl  which  holds  the  water  for  baptizing 
babies  ?' 

"  '  My  dear  Marion,  we  call  it  a  baptismal  font?  said  Mrs. 
Berkley. 

"  '  And  so  does  our  dear  minister  on  the  mountains  of  Virginia 
call  an  old  china  cup  he  has,  and  isn't  one  just  as  much  a  font  as 
the  other  ?'  asked  Marion  with  all  sincerity  of  tone. 

" '  Undoubtedly  it  is,  if  you  speak  of  the  Episcopal  Church 
in  your  neighborhood.' 

"  '  Certainly  I  do  ;  but,  dear  Alice,  what  would  the  china  cup  be 
in  Virginia's  old  barn  of  a  meeting-house  down  in  Henrico  ?' 
asked  Marion. 

44  *  I  leave  Virginia  to  speak  for  herself.  This  is  fittingly  styled 
a  font.  It  is  constructed  after  those  found  in  the  churches  of  the 
Elizabethan  age,  after  which  our  present  edifice  is  constructed, 
and  was  thus  spacious  because  in  those  days  it  was  the  practice 
to  administer  baptism  by  immersion.' 

"'Immerse  the  children !' exclaimed  the  Presbyterian  lady; 
'  and  is  it  possible  that  your  love  of  antiquity  is  to  lead  to  the 
revival  of  the  custom  ?  This  would  be  bringing  back  the  dark 
ages  upon  us  with  a  witness.' 

"  The  lovely  mother  here  spoke  and  said :  '  After  all,  it  must 
be  confessed  to  do  so  would  be  very  scenical,  and  if  done  skilfully, 


WHAT  IS  BAPTISM  ?  189 

might  become  artistically  graceful ;  though  I  think  the  effect  on 
the  babies  would  be  rather  startling.' 

"  '  My  dear  Marion,  do  not  fear  that  we  shall  revive  any  custom 
so  decidedly  inconvenient,  though  I  must  confess,  I  don't  see  how 
our  ancient  practices  of  the  church  can  be  fully  restored  without 
so  doing,  for  our  Rubric  speaks  expressly,  "  that  the  priest  shall 
dip  the  child  in  the  water  discreetly  and  warily,"  and  which,  I 
believe,  was  the  primitive  custom.' 

"  *  Well,  Alice,  you  shall  have  it  all  your  own  way,'  replied  the 
Presbyterian  lady ;  '  but  a  drop  of  water  is  as  much  water  as  a 
whole  ocean.' 

"  *  Ah  !'  replied  the  Episcopal  lady,  'but  our  baptism  is  "the 
laver  of  regeneration,11  and  not  the  mere  affixing  of  the  seal  of 
a  covenant,  as  it  is  among  your  dissenters.' 

" 4  And  yet  you  owe  this  change  to  our  example,'  replied  the 
Presbyterian;  'but  for  the  determination  on  this  subject  by  the 
Westminster  Assembly  of  Divines,  you  never  would  have  thought 
of  such  a  change.' 

"  'I  do  not  know  when  or  how  the  change  was  introduced,  but 
we  have  the  example  of  the  Romish  Church,  which,  though  now 
schismatical,  is  still  an  Apostolic  Church,  to  countenance  us.' 

"  '  But  the  Greek  Church,'  said  Virginia,  '  is  not  that  too  an 
Apostolic  Church  ?  and  the  Greek  Church  have  adopted  no  such 
custom,  and  would  regard  the  sprinkling  of  water  no  more  bap 
tism,  than  do  our  highly  respectable  and  worthy  Society  of 
Friends  the  application  of  water,  a  rite  prescribed  by  the  Lord 
Jesus.  And  yet,  the  Greeks  may  be  deemed  the  best  judges  of 
what  the  Greek  words  import,  when  they  speak  of  this  ordi 
nance.' 

"'  My  dears,'  said  Mrs.  Marion,  interrupting  the  disputants, 
*  you  seem  to  be  at  pins-points  in  this  matter;  but  what  after  all 
is  the  difference  ?  what  does  it  all  amount  to  ?  whether  a  child 
is  baptized  one  way  or  the  other,  or  baptized  at  all  ?  That  is  a 
question  of  some  moment.  Can  you  tell  me  ?' 

"  Neither  of  the  ladies  addressed  seemed  ready  to  speak,  evi 
dently  waiting  for  each  other  to  reply. 

'*  At  last  the  Episcopal  lady  said — '  As  by  baptism,  duly  ad 
ministered,  (and  which  only  is  baptism,)  our  children  are  trans 
ferred  from  "  the  kingdom  of  Satan"  into  "  the  kingdom  of  Christ," 
from  being  the  children  of  Satan,  become  "  members  of  Christ," 
and  "  inheritors  of  the  kingdom  of  heaven,"  their  state  before 
baptism  must  be  deemed  in  the  last  degree  perilous  ;  what  that 
is,  I  leave  you  to  infer,  my  dear  Marion,  and  may  the  love  of  your 
child  lead  you  to  an  immediate  flight  to  the  only  ark  of  safety, 


190  PETER  SCHLEMIHL.     . 

provided  by  God  for  your  own  soul  and  that  of  your  sweet  child, 
the  church  of  Christ  on  earth.1 

"  '  And  you,  dear  Virginia,  what  do  you  say  ?'  said  the  anxious, 
tender-hearted  mother. 

"  '  Baptism,  dear  Marion,'  replied  the  Presbyterian,  '  is  the 
seal  of  the  covenant,  which  is  applied  to  children  of  believing 
parents,  who  dedicate  their  children  to  the  Lord  in  baptism, 
so  bringing  them  into  union  with  the  Church  of  Christ  on 
earth,  and  securing  them  all  the  blessings  promised  to  Abra 
ham  and  his  children — blessings  temporal  and  spiritual  under  the 
dispensation  of  the  ancient  church,  and  spiritual  under  the  Chris 
tian  ;  for  the  promise,  says  Peter,  "  is  unto  you  and  your  children, 
even  as  many  as  the  Lord  our  God  shall  call."  ! 

"  *  Virginia,  you  are  not  quite  so  specific,  nor  so  denunciatory 
as  Alice,'  said  the  mother  with  a  desponding  tone  ;  '  but  what 
you  tell  me,  is  after  all  not  very  comforting  to  a  poor  sinner,  as  I 
know  I  am  ungrateful  to  God  for  all  His  unspeakable  mercies, 
and  especially  for  this  most  precious  boy,  whom  I  love  more  than 
life.'  And  here  the  tears  rose  to  her  eyes,  as  she  held  up  her 
boy  and  gazed  in  his  beautiful  face,  while  he,  all  radiant  with 
smiles,  stretched  out  his  little  arms  toward  his  mother ;  and  then 
clasping  him  to  her  bosom,  she  cried — '  O  God,  is  it  so  ?  Dost 
thou  love  my  boy  the  less  for  my  sinfulness  ?'  And  she  hid  her 
face  over  her  child  and  was  for  an  instant  silent,  and  then  looking 
up  through  her  tears  as  bright  and  buoyant  as  ever,  said :  '  It 
can't  be  so  !  I  don't  believe  it !  A  little  water,  or  much  water, 
can  make  no  such  great  difference — I  believe  the  blessed  Saviour 
is  the  same  yesterday,  to-day,  and  forever — and  that  he  loves  little 
children  in  Heaven,  as  truly  and  as  tenderly  as  he  did  while  on 
earth ;'  and  she  walked  away  with,  her  baby  to  where  her  ser 
vant  stood,  to  whom  she  gave  it. 

"  *  See  !'  said  the  Episcopal  lady,  in  a  tone  of  severity,  '  see 
where  dissent  leads  you.  Oh,  this  right  of  private  judgment !  to 
what  schisms  and  indifference  it  leads  multitudes,  who  would,  but 
for  its  fatal  tendencies,  be  gathered  in  safety  and  in  unity,  in  the 
embrace  of  our  divine  mother.'* 

*  The  church  as  a  divine  mother,  is  thus  spoken  of  in  a  sermon  of  Bishop 
Hobart's,  preached  in  1810. 

"  Our  church  has  made  the  most  ample  provision  for  the  devotions  of  her 
members  assembled  in  the  congregation,  under  their  authorized  ministers. 
Private  associations  for  devotion  for  this  purpose,  she  dare  not  countenance. 
Among  other  communities,  for  aught  she  knows,  they  may  be  harmless ;  they 
may  prove  edifying.  But  experience,  raising  a  warning  voice  in  the  sad  pages 
of  her  history,  proves  that  within  her  bosom,  they  have  been  the  nurseries  of 
enthusiasm  and  spiritual  pride ;  the  engines  by  which  ambition,  cloaked  under 


THE  ENIGMA  OF  THE  EAGLE  SOLVED.  191 

"  '  My  dear  Alice,'  replied  the  Presbyterian,  '  we  are  not  respon 
sible  for  the  sins  or  neglects  of  others;  and  as  to  private  judg 
ment — what  is  it  but  the  exercise  of  your  private  judgment, 
which  has  determined  you  to  be  an  Episcopalian,  rather  than  a 
"  dissenter"  as  you  please  to  style  us?' 

"  The  young  mother  now  rejoined  her  friends,  and  said,  '  Pray 
don't  let  us  renew  that  sad  controversy  over  this  basin — what 
else  is  there  to  see  ?' 

"  One  of  the  young  ladies  now  came  up,  and  asked  the  young 
mother  to  '  come  and  see  something  very  strange' — pointing  to 
a  stand  on  which  a  prayer  book  or  Bible  was  supported  on  the 
wide-spread  wings  of  a  large  dark-brown  bird,  standing  on  a 
globe. 

"  *  Bless  me  !'  exclaimed  Mrs.  Marion, '  what  does  this  turkey- 
buzzard  mean  ?' 

"  The  cicerone  and  her  companion,  and  the  girls  all  stood 
around  this  wondrous  bird,  which  was  certainly  nondescript; 
and  for  once  Mrs.  Berkley  was  in  doubt.' 

*'  *  It  can't  be  a  turkey-buzzard,"  she  said ;  '  it  is  an  eagle  !' 

the  mantle  of  extraordinary  sanctity,  has  excited  against  her  sober  order,  the 
rage  of  ignorant  fanaticism,  and  whelmed  in  ruin  her  fairest  forms." 

The  late  Reverend  Dr.  John  Mason,  in  the  Christian  Magazine,  pp.  453— 
455,  in  a  review  of  this  sermon,  having  quoted  this  sentence,  says :  "  We 
stop  for  breath.  This  is  a  frightful  picture.  Never  did  we  behold  such  a 
group  of  living  creatures  in  so  narrow  a  space.  The  scene  resembles  what 
is  fancied  by  a  man  in  a  violent  fever.  The  disordered  brain  covers  the 
curtains  of  the  sick-bed  with  living  angry  forms ;  and  the  patient  is  terrified 
at  the  creatures  of  his  own  frenzy. 

"This  is  a  specimen  of  the  eloquence  of  Dr.  Hobart,  very  unlike  the  elo 
quence,  however,  which  the  Roman  orator  recommends. 

"  In  one  sentence,  Dr.  Hobart  presents  to  our  view  experience  personified, 
raising  a  warning  voice;  pages  of  history  personified,  sad  and  weeping;  the 
church  personified  as  a  matron,  within  her  bosom — and  a  capacious  bosom  this 
dame  must  have,  for  it  contains  whole  nurseries — nurseries  swarming  with 
very  unruly  children ;  within  her  bosom,  they  have  been  the  nurseries  of  en 
thusiasm  and  spiritual  pride.  These  too,  are  in  their  turn  endowed  with  life, 
and  committed  to  the  nursery;  but  they  are  speedily  deprived  of  animation, 
and  converted  into  engines.  Ambition  is  personified,  in  order  to  employ  these 
engines,  and  appears  cloaked,  but  not  with  a  cloak,  nor  yet  a  surplice,  but  under 
a  mantle,  a  mantle  too  of  singular  contexture — extraordinary  sanctity.  The 
order  of  the  church  is  personified,  sober  order.  Fanaticism  is  personified;  it 
is  ignorant,  and  angry  with  this  sober  order.  The  two  unruly  children,  spiritual 
pride  and  enthusiasm,  which  were  first  converted  into  an  engine,  and  again 
simplified  into  stimuli,  to  produce  excitement,  are  afterwards  speedily  trans 
formed  into  an  overflowing  flood,  which,  'horrible  dictu!'  whelms  in  ruin  the 
church's  fairest  forms!  All  these  personifications  and  transmutations  take 
place  in  one  short  sentence.  Everything  comes  alive  from  the  pen  of  Dr. 
Hobart." 


192  PETER  SCHLEMIHL. 

" '  It  is  the  strangest  looking  eagle  I  have  ever  seen,'  said 
Marion. 

"  '  What  has  a  bird  of  prey  to  do  with  a  book  of  prayers  ?' 
asked  Virginia,  in  a  tone  which  spoke  her  want  of  the  bump  of 
reverence. 

"  The  question  was  a  puzzler,  and  Mrs.  Berkley  said  musingly : 

"  '  No,  it  can't  be  an  eagle.  Oh,  I  have  it !'  brightening  up 
as  she  said  it — '  it  is  a  rook  !' 

" '  Very  well,'  replied  Virginia,  '  let  it  be  a  rook ;  what  has  a 
rook  to  do  with  the  prayer  book  ?' 

" '  My  dear  Virginia,  can  you  have  so  soon  forgotten  the  legends 
of  the  nursery  ?' 

"  '  I  must  confess,'  replied  Virginia,  with  a  good-natured  smile, 
'  it  is  some  years  since  I  was  graduated  into  the  parlor,  and  I  am 
now  completely  mystified  as  to  what  you  allude.' 

"  *  See,'  said  Mrs.  Berkley,  '  what  a  speaking  face  it  has  ;  you 
can  almost  imagine  the  rook  capable  of  speaking.' 

" '  He  has  a  most  speaking  face,  I  must  confess,'  said  Mrs. 
Virginia;  'but  though  we  read  of  the  dumb  ass  speaking,  I  don't 
remember  to  have  heard  of  birds  talking  excepting  those  of  the 
famous  Esopian  genus.  Do  you  know,  Marion  ?'  turning  to  the 
mother  of  young  Master  Jeames. 

"  '  No,  dear  Virginia,  I  am  all  in  the  dark,  and  as  to  nursery 
legends,  I  never  heard  of  them  in  the  mountains  where  I  was 
raised.' 

"  '  And  can  you  both,'  said  Mrs.  Berkley,  \vith  a  tone  of  triumph, 
'  have  forgotten  the  pathetic  story  of  Cock  Robin  ?  If  so,  here 
it  is — 

{  And  who'll  be  the  priest  ? 

I,  said  the  Rook; 

With  my  little  book, 

I'll  be  the  priest! 
And  HERE  IS  THE  ROOK  with  his  little  book."  ' 

"  *  Now,  ladies,  could  anything  be  more  delightful  and  felicitous 
than  for  the  Church  thus  to  connect  the  sweet  associations  of 
infancy  with  the  sacred  services  of  piety  and  of  prayer?' 

"  '  But  I  don't  know  that  the  rook  is  of  a  very  reputable  family  ; 
do  you  recollect?*  said  Mrs.  Virginia  with  all  possible  pertinacity, 
determined  to  have  the  victory. 

'"I  do  not,'  replied  Mrs.  Berkley;  'but  here  is  Adeline  and 
her  friends  just  out  of  school.'  Turning  to  one  of  the  young 
ladies — '  My  child,  you  have  just  been  graduated  from  the  Troy 
Institute,  and  ought  to  know  everything.  Tell  us,  of  what  order 
is  the  rook?' 


ORDER  OF  THE  ROOK.  193 

"  The  young  lady,  with  great  sweetness  of  manner,  and  in  a 
timid  tone,  as  if  repeating  a  lesson  imperfectly  memorized,  re 
plied — *  The  Rook,  or  Corvus  frugilegus,  is  of  the  order  of 
Omnivora,  so  styled,  says  Mudie,  because  they  can  eat  everything; 
and  some  of  them  prey  upon  living  animals,  though  generally 
weak  ones,  or  when  they  are  in  an  enfeebled  state.'* 

" '  Thank  you,  my  dear  Adeline,'  said  Mrs.  Berkley,  as  if  per 
fectly  satisfied  with  the  reply. 

"  The  party  now  walked  down  the  aisle  to  leave  the  Church. 
Marion  whispered  to  Virginia — '  I  always  thought  a  crow  looked 
like  a  priest,  and  do  you  know,  I  think  McLeary's  theory  begins 
to  look  probable?  I'm  sure,  if  it  be  so,  the  crows  must  be  of 
the  order  of  the  priests — don't  you  think  so?' 

"  '  Oh  Marion,'  Virginia  replied,  laughing,  '  how  can  you  say 
such  wicked  things,  and  in  the  church  too  ?'  Peter  followed  these 
ladies  out  of  the  church,  and  saw  them  take  their  seats  in  two 
beautiful  and  costly  carriages  which  awaited  their  coming.  The 
young  mother  entered  the  one  in  which  Master  Jeames  and  his 
nurse  were  seated,  and  with  a  look  of  joy  and  pride,  took  her  boy 
into  her  lap.  The  party,  duly  shut  in  by  their  footman,  drove  up 
town,  leaving  Peter,  as  they  rapidly  passed  out  of  the  reach  of  his 
vision,  the  happier  for  the  society  they  had  unconsciously  sup 
plied  him. 

*  Mudie  on  British  Birds,  vol.  i.  p.  154. 


13 


194  PETER  SCHLEMIHL. 


CHAPTER  X. 

The  arrest  and  trial  of  Peter  Schlemihl — Peter  is  arrested  by  the  Star  police 
and  carried  to  the  Tombs — Conference  of  the  Judges,  as  to  the  crime  on  which 
he  should  be  tried — Astonishment  of  Rabbi  Ben  Jarchi,  on  being  told  it 
was  libellous  to  call  a  Congressman  an  office-seeker — Peter  to  be  held  as  a 
vagabond — Colonel  Bang-bang  offers  Peter  his  "  unbought"  services — Case 
opened  by  the  State's  Attorney ;  evidence  produced ;  exceptions  taken  by 
Colonel  Bang-bang;  quarrel  between  the  Rabbi  and  the  Colonel — Peter's 
shadow  pinned  to  the  wall — Peter  is  placed  against  the  wall  in  order  to 
have  his  profile  drawn ;  kicks  over  the  Judge  and  escapes — Uproar  con 
sequent  thereon — Colloquy  of  the  Rabbi  and  Colonel  Bang-bang — Notes  of 
the  Judges — Peter  sends  to  the  Babylonian  Times  the  Judges'  notes,  which 
are  read  by  the  Gentleman  in  Black — The  Rabbi's  leader  to  the  Evening 
Star,  giving  an  account  of  the  arrest,  trial  and  condemnation  of  Peter — 
Judge  Tomkins'  Letter  to  the  Bishop  of  Peach  Orchard — Necessity  of  sav 
ing  the  Vestal  Virgin  of  the  Anglican  Church,  from  the  embrace  of  the 
"  man  of  sin,"  and  the  company  of  the  "  scarlet  whore" — Undertakes  to 
prove  "  Dissent"  to  be  the  "  man  of  sin" — His  essays  on  this  subject — Has 
received  a  letter  from  the  Bishop  of  Green  Mountains ;  and  his  remarks 
thereon — Urges  upon  the  Bishop  of  Peach  Orchard  the  importance  of  re 
viving  the  ancient  discipline  of  flagellation — Testimony  of  Father  Ripa  ; 
of  Cardinal  Damiana ;  Abelard — Mrs.  Smith's  remarks  and  the  reply  of 
the  Gentleman  in  Black. 

"  FROM  the  letters  of  Peter,  I  learned  he  was  in  the  habit  of 
taking  his  walks  through  the  upper  part  of  the  city,  and  as  he 
frequently  spoke  of  the  pleasure  of  meeting  with  school  girls,  and 
the  sports  of  children,  I  presumed  these  walks  must  have  taken 
him  into  the  University  Square.  I  communicated  these  thoughts 
to  my  friends  of  the  Star  police,  and  they  were  acted  upon  with 
unexpected  success.  Peter  was  fond  of  showering  down  sugared 
almonds  upon  the  path  while  these  little  children  were  running 
their  romps,  or  driving  their  hoops,  and  looked  on  with  pleasure 
at  the  delight  with  which  these  fairy  gifts  were  gathered.  The 
police,  who  were  strolling  on  duty,  observed  the  frequency  of  this 
event  with  suspicion.  But  Peter's  felt  made  his  steps  as  soft  as 
those  of  a  cat,  and  he  was  too  wise  to  be  very  near  any  of  these 
worthy  guardians  of  the  public  peace.  For  a  long  while,  there 
fore,  they  posted  themselves  on  this  ground,  and  stood  hid  behind 


PETER  IS  ARRESTED  BY  THE  STAR  POLICE.  195 

the  trees,  awaiting  any  crackling  of  the  grass,  or  disturbance  of 
the  gravel,  which  might  help  them  to  the  invisible  Peter. 

"A  little  girl  was  one  day  driving  her  hoop,  at  the  top  of  her 
speed,  when  she  stumbled  and  fell,  and  hurt  her  little  hands. 
Peter,  forgetting  himself,  ran  and  picked  her  up,  and  was  busily 
engaged  in  brushing  her  clothes,  when  a  Star  policeman  sprang 
upon  him  with  a  lion's  grasp,  and  cried  out '  at  last  I've  found  you  !' 
Peter  was  too  astonished  to  say  a  word.  And  when  he  recovered 
himself,  he  thought  it  best  to  be  perfectly  silent. 

"The  policeman,  proud  of  his  success,  led  Peter  down  the 
Broadway  of  the  city,  calling  to  his  aid  one  of  his  companions, 
to  take  the  other  side  of  the  culprit.  When  Peter  found  they 
were  leading  him  to  the  Tombs,  he  began  to  struggle  and  fight. 
The  strangeness  of  such  a  contest  soon  attracted  the  attention  of 
the  passers  by,  and  in  a  moment  or  two,  a  multitude  of  people 
were  on  their  way  toward  the  Tombs,  and  running  on  filled  up 
the  Court  room  almost  to  suffocation. 

"The  Judges  were  assembled  in  their  private  room,  adjoining 
the  Court  room,  when  a  Star  policeman  came  in  and  informed 
them  that  Peter  Schlemihl  was  arrested,  and  now  on  his  way  to 
the  Tombs. 

'"My  worthy  friend,  the  celebrated  Rabbi  Ben  Jarchi,  was  the 
presiding  Magistrate  of  the  Court,  to  whom  I  had  communi 
cated  my  wishes  to  arrest  Peter,  as  a  low  fellow,  who  had  been 
guilty  of  the  greatest  ingratitude  to  me,  his  best  benefactor  ;  telling 
him  it  would  be  rendering  the  state  some  service  to  apprehend  one, 
who  was  likely  to  do  no  good  by  being  left  at  liberty.  The  ex 
cellent  magistrate  assured  me  of  his  readiness  to  co-operate  with 
me  in  this  matter,  which  would  be  attended  with  no  possible  dif 
ficulty,  if  he  could  once  be  brought  before  him.  And  in  all  this 
I  am  sure  he  was  perfectly  honest.  He  knew  what  it  was  to  be 
black-balled,  and  though  I  don't  think  he  was  as  sensitive  as  my 
self  to  such  annoyances,  and  would,  perhaps,  have  been  perfectly 
indifferent  to  have  had  a  column  or  two  of  the  daily  gazettes  dis 
charged  in  volleys  at  himself,  yet  he  fully  sympathized  with  me, 
and  said  he  would  gladly  abate  a  nuisance  annoying  to  one,  who 
was  so  little  disposed  to  be  held  up  for  the  amusement  of  the  read 
ing  public.  During  former  years,  we  had  often  met  in  society,  and 
I  have  rarely  met  a  more  amiable  and  excellent  man.  With  his 
associate,  to  whom  he  introduced  me,  when  I  called  to  ask  his 
aid  in  this  matter,  I  had  no  acquaintance.  He  was  a  formal  per 
son,  very  rubicund  and  looking  very  rubrical. 

"Brother  Tomkins  inquired  of  the  Rabbi,  'on  what  crime 
will  the  criminal  be  indicted?' 

"  '  Really,  I  have  not  thought  of  that,'  replied  the  Rabbi,  '  but 


196  PETER  SCHLEMIHL. 

such  is  the  opulence  of  the  statutes,  I  presume  we  shall  be  at  no 
loss  in  this  matter;  we  shall,  I  think,  be  able  to  make  out  a  felony, 
or  misdemeanor  of  some  sort.  He  has,  as  you  know,  knocked 
overboard  the  Spaniard,  and  at  the  hazard  of  life ;  can't  we  make 
that  answer  ?' 

"  'It  would  do  very  well,'  replied  Judge  Tomkins,  'but  as  it 
happened  on  the  high  seas,  I  fear  it  may  be  ruled  as  out  of  our 
jurisdiction.' 

"  '  I  think  not,'  replied  the  Rabbi.  '  By  2d  Massachusetts  Laws, 
p.  711,  it  is  provided,  "that  where  a  person  shall  be  feloniously 
stricken,  poisoned,  or  injured  on  the  high  seas,  and  die  thereof 
in  any  county  within  the  commonwealth,  the  offender  may  be 
indicted  and  tried  in  the  county  where  the  death  shall  happen." 
Now,  by  a  liberal  construction  of  that  law,  I  think  we  may  read 
it  as  intending  simply  this,  "  where  a  person  shall  be  stricken  on 
the  high  seas,  the  offender  shall  be  tried  in  the  county  where  he 
may  be  caught." 

" '  I'm  afraid  it  won't  hold,'  replied  Brother  Tomkins. 

"  '  It  must  hold,'  replied  the  Rabbi,  '  for  by  1  Dallas,  338,  and 
2  Browne,  251,  whatever  amounts  to  a  public  wrong  may  be  the 
subject  to  an  indictment.  Now,  is  it  not  a  public  wrong  to  en 
danger  a  man's  life  on  the  high  seas  ?  Indeed,  it  is  not  necessary 
that  there  should  be  actual  force  or  violence  to  constitute  an  in 
dictable  offence.  Acts,  injurious  to  private  persons,  which  tend 
to  excite  violent  resentment,  and  thus  produce  fighting  and  dis 
turbance  to  the  peace  of  society,  are  themselves  indictable,  so  5 
Binney,  Commonwealth  v.  Taylor.' 

"  *  But  see  !'  said  the  scrupulous  magistrate, 4  we  must  not  put 
the  prisoner  where  he  can  find  any  loop-hole  of  retreat.  This 
misdemeanor  was  committed  on  the  high  seas  ;  now,  if  we  rely 
on  that  act,  we  shall  certainly  lose  our  game  ;  we  must  find  some 
act  committed  against  the  sovereignty  and  laws  of  Babylon — ' 

"  The  presiding  judge  gently  inserted  his  fore-finger  under  his 
wig  as  men  do,  who,  like  the  Rabbi,  wear  scratches,  which  seem 
to  forbid  all  scratching,  and  so  stimulated  the  organ  of  acquisi 
tiveness,  it  being  more  accessible  than  the  organ  of  benevolence, 
which,  had  it  been  well  rubbed,  would  doubtless  have  been  more 
fortunate  for  Peter. 

"  '  That's  true,'  replied  the  Rabbi ;  '  but  misdemeanor  is  a  wide 
word,  and  can  be  applied  to  any  crime  for  which  the  law  has  not 
provided  a  particular  name :  so  Hawkins,  chap.  xl.  sect.  2 ;  and 
'twill  be  strange  if  we  can't  find  something  of  the  sort.' 

"  '  It  must  be  something  which  has  been  done,1*  replied  Brother 
Tomkins,  'the  bare  intention  is  not,  you  know,  punishable. 


PENALTY  AGAINST  COINING  MONEY.  197 

Now,  what  has  he  done  since  coming  into  Babylon  ?  that's  the 
gist  of  the  question.' 

"  *  I  think  we  can  hold  him  on  the  charge  of  uttering  false  coin, 
knowing  it  to  be  such  ;  for  you  know,  he  paid  a  half  guinea  to 
old  Gottfried  Jahn,  for  mending  his  boots  ;  coin  which  was  never 
issued  from  the  mint  of  England.' 

"  *  I  don't  remember,'  replied  Judge  Tomkins,  '  of  any  statute 
of  the  republic  relating  to  frauds  in  bullion.'* 

"  '  And  suppose  there  be  none  ;  I  presume  the  common  law  can 
be  made  to  serve  upon  this  occasion.' 

"  *  But,'  replied  the  Associate  Judge,  '  where  is  the  coin  in 
question?  Can  that  be  had  ?  Will  James  swear  to  the  identical 
coin  ?' 

"  The  worthy  judge  was  once  more  gravelled — and  again  rub 
bed  the  organ  of  acquisitiveness,  for  he  had  good  reasons  for  be 
lieving  it  would  be  quite  a  weighty  affair  for  him  to  make  sure  of 
Peter. 

"  '  Well,  d — n  the  coin  ;  I  suppose  we  must  give  that  up,'  he 
replied.  '  How  will  the  charge  of  coining  instruments  answer? 
The  8  and  9  William  III.,  chap.  xxvi.  sect.  1,  enacts  that  "no 
smith,  founder,  or  other  person  or  persons  whatsoever,  (other 
than,  and  except  the  persons  employed  in,  and  for  his  Majesty's 
mint  or  mints  in  the  town  of  London  or  elsewhere,  and  for  the 
use  and  service  of  said  mints  only,  or  persons  lawfully  authorized 
by  the  Lords  Commissioners  of  the  Treasury,  or  Lord  High 
Treasurer  of  England  for  the  time  being,)  shall  knowingly  make 
or  mend,  or  begin  to  proceed  to  make  or  mend,  or  assist  in  mak 
ing  or  mending  any  puncheon,  counter-puncheon,  matrix,  stamp, 
die,  pattern,  or  mould  of  steel,  iron,  silver,  or  other  metal  or 
metals,  or  of  sand  or  fine  founder's  earth  or  sand,  or  of  other 
materials  whatsoever,  in  or  upon  which  there  shall  be  made  or 
impressed,  or  which  will  make  or  impress  the  figure,  stamp,  re 
semblance  or  similitude  of  both  or  either  of  the  sides  or  flats  of 
any  gold  or  silver  coin  current  within  this  kingdom;  nor  shall 
knowingly  make  or  mend,  or  begin  to  make  or  mend,  or  assist  in 
making  or  mending  any  edger  or  edging  tool,  instrument  or  engine, 
not  of  common  use  in  any  trade,  but  contrived  for  marking  of 
money  round  the  edges  with  letters,  grainings,  or  other  marks  or 
figures  resembling  those  on  the  edges  of  money  coined  in  his 
Majesty's  mint,  nor  any  press  for  coinage,  nor  any  cutting  engine 
for  cutting  round  blanks  by  force  of  a  screw  out  of  flatted  bars  of 
gold,  silver,  or  other  metal ;  nor  shall  knowingly  buy  or  sell,  hide 
or  conceal,  or  without  lawful  authority,  or  sufficient  excuse  for 

*  There  is  none — Coin  of  United  States  protected  by  Act  21  April,  1806. 


108  PETER  SCHLEMIHL. 

that  purpose  have  in  his,  her,  or  their  houses,  custody,  or  posses 
sion,  any  such  puncheon,  counter-puncheon,  matrix,  stamp,  die, 
edger,  cutting  engine,  or  other  tool  or  instrument  before  men 
tioned  ;  and  every  such  offender  or  offenders,  their  counsellors, 
procurers,  aiders,  and  abettors,  shall  be  guilty  of  high  treason, 
and  being  convicted  thereof,  shall  suffer  death,  as  in  case  of  high 
treason."  'There!'  exclaimed  the  judge,  taking  a  long  breath; 
1  there's  law  enough  to  hang  the  devil  himself.' 

"Judge  Tomkins,  whose  wondering  looks,  as  the  recitation  was 
going  on,  testified  his  astonishment  at  the  fluency  and  precision  of 
the  Rabbi's  memory,  said — '  It  is  most  surprising,  judge,  that  you 
should  have  this  law  of  uttering  false  coin  at  your  fingers'  ends  ; 
you  seem  to  have  got  it  by  heart.' 

"  The  judge  seemed  rather  restive  under  the  compliment,  and 
said— 'That's  not  to  the  purpose.  Can  we  not  make  that/iw/*  in 
this  case  ?  Has  not  Peter  Schlemihl  come  within  its  provisions? 
Has  he  not  been  guilty  of  having  a  purse  in  his  possession,  by 
which  coin  has  been  made  to  wear  "  the  resemblance  or  similitude" 
of  current  gold  coin  of  the  country?  has  he  not  "  bought  it  and 
hid  it  about  his  person  without  lawful  or  sufficient  excuse,"  and 
why  may  we  not  hang  him  as  high  as  Haman  of  old  ?  I  don't 
see  why !' 

"  *  I'm  loth  to  put  any  obstacles  in  the  way  of  one  so  astute  as 
my  learned  brother,'  replied  Judge  Tomkins,  '  and  I  will  only 
ask,  if  we  criminate  Peter  Schlemihl,  in  what  fix  shall  we  place 
the  Gentleman  in  Black,  from  whom  he  obtained  this  purse, 
feloniously,  it  may  be  said,  by  giving  a  shadow  in  exchange  for 
what  all  the  world  will  acknowledge  was  substance?  But  then, 
what  becomes  of  him  of  whom  he  obtained  the  purse,  and  who 
appears  as  prosecutor  in  this  case — may  it  not  be  asked,  how  did 
you  come  in  possession  of  it?  If  it  be  treason  in  Schlemihl  to 
possess,  what  crime  is  it  to  have  created,  supposing  the  Gentle 
man  in  Black  to  have  been  the  originator  of  the  celebrated  Cord- 
uan  purse  in  question  ?  Should  we  not  think  of  this  aspect  of 
the  case  ?' 

" '  The  devil's  in  it,'  exclaimed  the  worthy  judge.  *  Yes!  we 
must  give  that  up.' 

"  Here  one  of  the  police  came  into  the  private  room  of  the  judge 
to  notify  them  '  that  the  prisoner  was  now  in  custody  and  await 
ing  them  in  the  court  room,  carefully  held  by  a  policeman  in  the 
prisoner's  box.' 

*  This  is  an  old  French  expression  found  in  Spenser,  synonyme  to  Jit 
exactly,  still  in  use,  I  believe,  in  our  country. 


LAW  OF  LIBELS.  199 

" '  Tell  him  to  hold  on  to  him,'  said  the  judge,  in  a  voice  of 
thunder,  '  and  wait  till  we  are  ready  to  proceed  with  the  trial.' 

"  '  It  is  vexatious,  indeed,'  said  the  worthy  Rabbi,  '  now  we've 
got  the  fellow,  we  can't  find  out  the  law  to  hold  him  !  Can't 
you  help  me  in  this  conjuncture  ?' 

'"I  think  we  must  give  up  the  crime  of  uttering  and  tendering 
foreign  coin;  but,  perhaps,  we  may  get  a  hitch  on  him  on  the 
ground  of  blasphemy,  for  if  what  the  Gentleman  in  Black  says  of 
him  is  true,  he  has  shown  a  great  want  of  reverence  for  our  Holy 
Catholic  Church  in  all  its  apostolical  branches,  and  has  uttered 
words  tending  to  bring  into  contempt  our  Liturgy  and  its  most 
reverend  priesthood.  Now  Starkie  has  collected  a  great  variety 
of  cases,  in  his  work  on  Libels,  pages  486  to  504,  which  exhibit 
all  the  points  which  can  be  made  in  this  matter.  Now  if,'  con 
tinued  Mr.  Justice  Tomkins, '  if  it  is  libellous  to  publish — "that 
a  member  of  Congress  is  a  fawning  sycophant,  or  a  misrepre- 
sentative  in  Congress,  and  a  grovelling  office-seeker,  that  he  has 
abandoned  his  post,  in  Congress,  to  seek  office — "  ' 

"  '  Libellous  to  call  a  member  of  Congress  "  a  fawning  syco 
phant,  and  a  grovelling  office-seeker !"  '  exclaimed  the  Rabbi. 
*  You  astonish  me  !  I  thought  I  knew  what  a  libel  was,  but  this 
exceeds  all  I  have  ever  heard  of.  And  where  is  it,  in  this  wide 
spread  republic,  a  libel  to  say,  a  member  of  Congress  (the  facts 
being  so,  and  I  presume  the  examples  are  plenty  in  and  about 
the  Federal  City)  acts  the  part  of  a  fawning  sycophant,  and  has 
become  an  office-seeker?' 

"  *  The  case  is  sustained  to  the  very  letter,'  replied  the  asso 
ciate,  '  and  is  to  be  found  in  7  Johnson's  Rep.,  264,  Thomas  v. 
Croswell.  Now,  permit  me  to  go  on ;  if  it  be  libellous  to  so  speak 
of  facts  of  such  public  notoriety,  what  must  it  be  to  defame  and 
calumniate  that  economy,  order,  and  constitution  of  things  which 
make  up  the  general  system  of  the  law  and  government  of  the 
country  ;  see  Holt  on  Libels,  Book  82.  Now,  my  dear  friend, 
you  very  well  know,  a  libel  may  be  as  well  by  descriptions  and 
circumlocutions  as  in  express  terms;  therefore,  scandal  may  be 
conveyed  by  allegory  or  irony  amounting  to  libel.  And  Russell* 
gives  as  an  example,  "  as  where  a  writing,  in  a  taunting  manner, 
reckoning  up  several  acts  of  public  charity  done  by  a  person,  said 
'  You  will  not  play  the  Jew,  nor  the  hypocrite,'  and  then  pro 
ceeded,  in  a  strain  of  ridicule,  to  insinuate  that  what  the  person 
did  was  owing  to  vainglory."  : 

"'But  my  dear  sir,'  interrupted  the  Rabbi,  '  don't  go  all  round 

*  Russell  on  Crimes,  vol.  i.  303. 


200  PETER  SCHLEMIHL. 

Robin  Hood's  barn ;  let's  have  it.  What  are  your  bill  of  particu 
lars — let's  hear  that.' 

" '  Why  sir,  it  is  said  he  has  been  guilty  of  defaming  the  Gen 
tleman  in  Black,  and  through  him  the  great  doctrines  of  the  Church, 
by  various  publications,  tending  greatly  to  lessen  the  claims  to 
universal  belief  of  the  greatest  of  all  truths  connected  with  the 
Christian  religion — ' 

"'Such  as  what?  said  the  Judge  impatiently.' 

"  *  The  doctrine  of  the  Apostolical  succession,  and  the  unity  of 
the  church,  and — " 

"'Heaven  save  the  mark!'  exclaimed  the  Rabbi,  'and  is  this 
all  you  have  to  offer — and  do  you  think  that  charge  would  bear 
the  strain  of  a  spider  ?  No,  my  dear  friend,  the  church  must  take 
care  of  itself;  we  should  have  the  whole  press  of  Babylon,  from 
the  "  Universe"  down  to  the  "  Subterranean"  out  upon  us  ;  and 
too,  I  don't  think  the  Gentleman  in  Black  is  desirous  of  the  noto 
riety  which  this  personal  charge  must  give  to  him.' 

'"I  can't  help  you,'  said  Judge  Tomkins,  who  was  not  a  little 
offended  at  the  contempt  with  which  the  Church  had  been  treated 
by  the  Rabbi. 

'"  We  are  in  a  tight  place  truly  !'  said  the  Rabbi,  lifting  off  his 
scratch  and  wiping  off  the  perspiration. 

"  The  murmurs  of  the  crowd  reached  him,  and  the  frequent 
cries  of  the  little  men  who  now  made  use  of  their  brief  authority, 
and  stilled  the  crowd  by  those  magical  cries,  '  s'lence  the  court !' 
4  Walk  light !' — steps  only  known  in  the  halls  of  Justice,  since 
the  beautiful  mythology  of  Greece  has  ceased  to  exist. — It  is  a 
curious  fact,  that  where  there  is  so  much  light  in  walking,  there 
should  be  so  much  leaden-headed  dullness  in  the  favored  few  who 
are  privileged  with  seats,  especially  upon  those  known  as  the 
bench. 

" '  We  must  give  up,  then,  all  Peter's  acts  over  the  seas  and  on 
the  seas — because  they  are  beyond  our  jurisdiction.  Uttering 
foreign  coin,  we  can't  prove  for  want  of  the  coin  so  paid  away  by 
him.  The  purse,  considered  as  an  instrument  for  coining,  must  be 
given  up  for  the  sufficient  reasons  you  have  cited — and  as  for 
scandal,  I  can't  go  that.  It  would  be  mixing  up  matters  which 
must  be  kept  separate — now  what's  to  be  done  ?' 

"The  honest  Judge  again  said — 'he  did  not  know  how  to 
help  him.' 

" '  Well  then,  I  must  help  myself,'  and  with  this  he  snatched 
up  an  old  book,  all  blackened  and  soiled  by  handling,  bound  in 
calf,  on  the  cover  of  which  the  leather  had  been  cut  out  with 
a  pen  knife,  so  as  to  show,  somewhat  indistinctly,  the  sacred  sym 
bol  of  the  cross:  showing  that  the  only  use  which  had  been  made 


201 

of  the  book,  was  the  administration  of  oaths  as  occasions  required. 
With  the  desperation  of  a  man  at  his  wits'  end,  the  Rabbi  opened  at 
the  five  books  of  Moses. 

"  '  I  remember  a  case  in  point,  in  the  Jerusalem  Talmud,  Vol. 
xvi.  p.  896,  on  this  text,  pointing  to  the  llth  verse  of  xviii. 
chapter  of  Deuteronomy,  and  I  will  send  for  it,  that  you  may 
see  it. 

44  *  You  may  do  as  you  please,'  said  the  associate  Judge,  very 
grumly,  '  but  I  think  though,  your  authority  would  do  better  in 
a  synagogue  than  in  a  court  of  justice.' 

"'Yes!  yes,  that  is  true.'  And  he  took  up  the  statutes,  and 
ran  over  the  Index  of  crimes  ;  and  read  in  passing,  the  laws  which 
seemed  to  ofler  a  hope  of  good  and  sufficient  cause  for  arrest — 
looking  at  his  associate  for  his  opinion  on  each,  as  he  read  each 
item. 

"  '  Here  is  the  chapter  "  of  incorrigible  rogues,"  what  say  you 
to  that?'  The  associate  Judge  shook  his  head — 4  of  burglary? 
can't  we  make  a  burglar  of  him?'  another  shake — 'of  house- 
breaking?  how  will  that  do?'  shake  third — 'of  larceny?  larceny! 
no  !  that  won't  do.'  Shake  fourth — 4of  receiving  stolen  goods  ? 
nor  that !  of  falsely  personating  another  ?' 

"'I  think  we  must  make  something  out  of  this,'  said  the 
Rabbi. 

"  'And  who  does  he  personate  but  himself?'  said  the  associate. 

44  'But  he  don't  personate  himself.  There's  the  falsity  of  the 
act.  He  walks  about  unseen,  spying  into  everybody's  windows, 
and  must  be  deemed  a  spy,  and  hung  up  as  such,'  said  the  Rabbi, 
now  really  furious  with  the  delay  ;  and  in  this  the  crowd  seemed 
fully  to  participate,  from  the  noises  which  reached  the  Rabbi's 
ears. 

44 '  Perhaps,'  said  the  associate,  dryly,  '  we  might  make  it  do, 
if  we  could  determine  where  he  was  born.  But  I  think  there 
will  be  no  question  of  his  being  a  vagabond ;  and  as  such  should 
be  taken  care  of.' 

"  4  Vagabond  it  shall  be  !'  cried  the  Rabbi,  and  taking  up  their 
portfolios  under  their  arms,  they  walked  with  all  possible  gravity 
into  the  Court,  amid  the  cries  of  '  s'lence  the  Court,  walk  light !' 
and  took  their  seats,  opened  their  portfolios  with  all  that  gravity 
and  decorum,  which  the  Honorable  Judges  know  so  well  how  to 
wear  on  all  solemn  occasions. 

"  The  clerk  read  the  warrant,  and  the  Rabbi  called  upon  the 
invisible  Peter  to  say,  'guilty  or  not  guilty  !'  Peter  believed  it 
best  to  say  nothing.  The  question  was  repeated  ;  no  reply. 
4  Sirrah  !'  said  the  Rabbi,  in  a  tone,  which  had  often  made  evil 
doers  tremble,  and  a  look  toward  the  apparently  empty  prisoner's 


202  PETER  SCHLEMIHL. 

box — '  you  shall  be  sent  to  prison  for  contempt  of  Court.  An 
swer,  are  you  guilty  or  not  guilty  ?' 

"But  poor  Peter  thought  discretion  would  be  the  better  part  of 
valor,  and  that  if  he  said  nothing,  nothing  could  be  said  of  him, 
so  he  persisted  in  his  silence — and  here  was  a  puzzler,  and  while 
the  wise  heads  were  pondering  the  difficulty,  and  what  steps  to 
take,  the  question  was  determined  by  the  love  of  mischief  in  an 
Irishman,  who  felt  over,  and  placing  his  hand  on  Peter's  head, 
gave  him  a  heavy  pull,  which  brought  out  the  exclamation, 
'Oh!'  The  Rabbi  instantly  lifted  up  his  head,  and  said,  'he 
pleads  not  guilty,  let  the  trial  proceed  ;'  and  asked  Peter  if  he 
had  counsel  to  defend  him. 

"  Here  that  distinguished  and  eloquent  advocate  of  the  cause  of 
the  people  against  the  oppressions  of  law  of  all  sorts,  and  so 
ciety  in  all  its  phases,  Colonel  Bang-bang,  came  forward,  and 
claimed  the  privilege  of  defending  his  friend  Peter  Von  Schle- 
mihl,  Esquire,  whom  he  had  long  known  by  reputation,  and  to 
whom  he  was  proud  to  offer  his  unbought  services.  'May  it 
please  your  honors,  unbought  by  the  miserable  gains  of  insa 
tiable  wealth,  wealth  which  has  been  won  at  the  cost  of  the  tears 
of  the  orphan,  the  sighs  of  the  widow,  and — ' 

"  '  Stop  !  Colonel  Bang-bang,  if  you  please.  All  this  eloquence 
is  uncalled  for.  The  culprit  is  charged  as  being  a  vagabond,  and 
when  the  evidence  is  offered  you  will  be  heard,  if  Schlemihl 
wishes  your  aid ' 

'"I  do,'  said  Peter,  '  and,  thank  God,  I  am  not  left  desolate  in 
the  midst  of  the  merciless  wolves  around  me.' 

"  '  Who  do  you  mean  by  wolves  ?'  said  one  in  the  crowd. 

"  Peter  saw  his  mistake  in  losing  the  sympathy  of  the  crowd, 
and  cried  out — 'These  land  pirates — the  star-police!' 

"'Damn  the  "  stars  !"  pirates !  Yes!  that's  your  sort,' cried 
out  several  voices. 

"  '  S'lence  the  court!'  was  now  cried  out  by  all  the  func 
tionaries." 

The  Gentleman  in  Black  proceeded — "  My  counsel,  the  state- 
attorney,  was  sent  for  and  came  in  at  this  point  of  time,  with 
all  the  documents  I  had  placed  in  his  hands — telling  him  all  I 
wanted  was  a  commitment,  so  that  if  I  could  but  lay  my  hands 
on  him,  all  would  be  attained. 

"In  compliance  with  these  instructions,  his  path  was  a  very 
plain  one.  He  asked  to  see  the  commitment,  and  having  seen  the 
crime  charged  upon  Peter,  addressed  the  court;  and  said,  as  is 
usual,  I  believe, 

"  '  His  very  highly  reputable  friend,  the  Gentleman  in  Black, 
has  felt  the  strongest  repugnance  in  permitting  any  of  the 


OPENING  SPEECH  OF  THE  STATE'S  ATTORNEY.  203 

abundant  proof  possessed  by  him  to  be  produced  in  court  in  this 
prosecution.  He  had  been  induced,  however,  by  a  sense  of  duty 
to  the  state,  and  the  rights  and  privileges  of  society,  to  furnish  the 
court  good  and  sufficient  evidence  that  the  prisoner  at  the  bar  was 
the  notorious  Peter  Schlemihl — a  man  who  has  been  wandering 
up  and  down  the  various  countries  of  Europe,  in  different  shapes 
and  disguises ;  holding  up  his  highly  respected  friend,  the  Gen 
tleman  in  Black,  as  his  greatest  enemy,  and  who  has  defrauded 
him  of  his  shadow,  for  which  he  acknowledges  he  received  an 
invaluable  purse.  Such  an  exchange,  I  venture  to  affirm,  no  sane 
man  would  make,  and  which  I  don't  believe  any  twelve  men  in 
Babylon  can  be  found  to  credit  as  possible — a  shadow  for  a  purse 
inexhaustible  as  the  mines  of  Mexico!  And  his  falsehoods,  too, 
have  not  rested  there.  He  has  attempted  to  satisfy  men  that  he 
lost  his  shadow  by  sleeping  on  the  ground,  during  a  long  winter's 
night,  in  Russia,  and  on  waking,  his  shadow  was  fastened  to  the 
snow,  and  he  never  could  recover  it.  This  tale  he  affirmed  to 
Chamisso,  his  friend,  and  it  has  been  told  in  every  capital  on  the 
continent.  Now  here  is  a  lie  direct.  If  he  had  lost  his  shadow 
in  Russia,  he  could  not  have  sold  it  for  the  purse  on  the  terms 
stated  by  him.  I  mention  this  contradiction  only  to  invalidate 
his  testimony  before  this  highly  respectable  assembly  of  my 
friends  and  fellow  citizens,'  said  the  attorney,  bowing  to  the  crowd, 
'  whose  sympathies  must  ever  be  with  the  generous  and  the 
noble,  and  who  can  have  no  sympathy  with  blackguards  and 
vagabonds.' 

"  *  To  the  divil  wid  him,'  cried  out  a  real  son  of  St.  Patrick. 

"  '  S'lence  court !'  cried  the  man  with  a  long  pole,  gilt  at  the  end. 

"  *  Silence  !'  reiterated  the  Rabbi. 

"  '  May  it  please  your  honors  !  I  have  in  my  pocket  the  verita 
ble  shadow  of  the  vagabond  and  purse-taker,  now  in  the  custody 
of  the  court.  A  most  miserable  shadow,  which  my  noble  friend, 
the  Gentleman  in  Black,  took  as  a  pledge  for  the  safe-keeping  and 
return  of  the  Corduan  purse,  which  he  had  the  kindness  to  loan 
to  the  culprit,  the  vagabond  now  before  you,  for  a  few  days  only, 
to  help  him  in  his  extreme  poverty. 

"  '  And  what  has  this  vagabond  been  doing?  May  it  please  your 
honors,  his  ingratitude  is  immense.  The  vast  wealth  which  he 
has  possessed  himself  of,  has  been  expended  in  every  town  and 
City  of  Europe,  Asia,  Africa,  and  America — and  he  has  had  the 
astonishing  skill,  by  some  unknown  process,  to  render  himself 
invisible,  and  so  elude  the  pursuit  of  justice ;  and  has  recently 
reached  our  city,  where  he  has  been  wandering  up  and  down, 
having  no  known  place  of  abode,  nor  any  acknowledged  and  fit 
ting  mode  of  obtaining  a  livelihood.  He  is  charged  with  being  a 


204  PETER  SCHLEMIHL. 

vagabond — to  that  charge  I  shall  confine  myself.  It  is  certainly 
treating  the  prisoner  with  most  surprising  lenity  to  inflict  on  him 
no  greater  punishment.  It  is,  therefore,  may  it  please  your 
honors !  unnecessary  for  me  to  prove  anything  beyond  the  in 
dictment,  and  it  by  no  means  follows,  that  it  is  necessary  to  prove 
the  offence  charged  in  the  indictment  to  the  whole  extent  laid  : 
for  it  is  fully  settled,  that  in  criminal  cases,  it  is  sufficient  for  the 
prosecutor  to  prove  so  much  of  the  charge  as  constitutes  an  of 
fence  punishable  by  law.  This  distinction  is  made  by  Lord  El- 
lenborough,  in  the  case  of  Rex  v.  Hunt. 

"  *  The  volume  and  page  !'  said  the  Court,  '  making  the  memo 
randum,  as  though  they  meant  to  sift  the  law  carefully.' 

"  The  learned  judges,  indeed,  both  showed  that  they  were  not 
the  men  who  do  nothing  for  their  money  but  to  sit  back  upon 
their  cushioned  seats,  arid  pick  their  teeth  as  so  many  learned 
judges  are  wont  to  do ;  but  had  at  once,  on  taking  their  seats, 
been  hard  at  work ;  especially  was  this  true  of  the  associate 
judge,  who  never  took  the  least  interest  in  the  trial,  unless  he  was 
taking  notes  all  the  while  ;  and  of  course  it  was  believed  by  all 
he  was  so,  as  well  as  the  Rabbi ;  but  Peter  Schlemihl  address 
ed  a  letter  to  the  Babylonian  Times  and  transmitted  what  he 
assures  the  public  were  the  veritable  notes  of  these  judges ;  and 
as  they  caused  no  little  stir  at  the  time,  I  have  preserved  the  paper 
in  which  Peter's  communication  appeared,  which  I  will  read  to 
you,  madam,  so  soon  as  I  get  through  his  trial.  I  will  now, 
therefore,  proceed." 

"  I  thank  you,  sir,  and  beg  you  will,"  replied  Mrs.  Smith ; 
"  I  am  deeply  interested  in  the  fate  of  poor  Peter  Schlemihl." 

"  The  attorney  bowed,  and  referred  to  his  brief — '  You  will 
find  it  in  2  Campbell,  585.*  "  This  distinction,"  says  this  very 
eminent  jurist,  with  whose  character,  and  the  value  to  be  placed 
on  his  opinions,  I  have  no  need  to  speak  before  your  honors, 
"  runs  through  the  whole  criminal  law,  and  it  is  invariably 
enough  to  prove  so  much  of  the  indictment  as  shows  that  the  de 
fendant  has  committed  a  substantive  crime  therein  specified  ;"  and 
should  any  variance  appear  between  the  indictment  and  the  evi 
dence,  which  in  the  singularity  of  this  case,  may  chance  to  ap 
pear,  there  would  be  no  material  variance  between  the  indictment 
and  the  evidence  adduced  in  support  of  it :  and  on  this  point  I 
have  to  refer  you  to  the  rule  laid  down  in  1  East,  Pleas  of  the 
Crown,  chap.  v.  sect.  115,  p.  145,  if  your  honors  desire  to  look 
it  up  :  "  That  a  variance  between  the  indictment  and  the  evidence 

*  Should  any  of  my  readers  be  curious,  they  will  find  all  the  citations  in 
this  trial  made  according  to  authorities. 


COLONEL  BANG-BANG.  205 

is  not  material,  provided  the  substance  be  found."  With  these 
remarks,  I  will  now  proceed  with  the  evidence  which  may  be 
necessary  to  show  to  your  honors,  that  the  culprit  before  you,  is 
indeed,  and  in  fact,  the  veritable  Peter  Schlemihl.' 

"  *  Before  the  trial  proceeds,'  said  Colonel  Bang-bang,  '  I  wish 
to  confer  with  my  client,  and  ask  leave  to  withdraw  with  him  to 
the  judges'  room.' 

"  *  It  can't  be  done,'  said  the  Rabbi;  '  he  must  not  be  trusted 
out  of  the  prisoner's  box.  If  you  want  to  speak  with  him,  you 
must  do  it  here.  Stand  back  from  the  box  and  let  Colonel  Bang- 
bang  confer  with  the  prisoner.' 

"  The  colonel  came  to  Peter,  while  the  police  officers  stood  as 
far  back  as  the  crowd  would  permit,  and  applying  his  voice  to 
Peter's  ear,  whispered — 

"  *  How  much  money  have  you  got  ?' 

"  '  Alas  !'  replied  Peter,  '  I  am  as  poor  as  a  church  mouse.' 

"  4  Where's  all  the  money  you  have  shaken  out  of  the  bag ; 
surely  you  havn't  been  such  a  fool  as  not  to  have  a  hoard  of  it 
somewhere?' 

"  '  Indeed  it  is  so ;  I  spent  it  as  I  wanted  it,  and  gave  it  away 
to  those  who  needed  it ;  and  I  had  no  chance  to  hoard  any  of  it.' 

" '  What  a  fool  you  must  be,'  replied  the  colonel ;  '  and  so 
when  you  lost  your  purse,  you  lost  your  all  ?' 

"  *  Yes  !  that  is  it.' 

"  *  And  how  do  you  suppose  I  can  live,  unless  I'm  paid  for  my 
services.  Can't  you  fork  out  a  V  ?' 

"  '  What  is  that?'  inquired  Peter. 

" '  A  five  dollar  bill,'  said  the  colonel;  '  that's  the  least  fee  I 
can  take  for  my  services.' 

"  '  I've  got  a  half  eagle  in  my  pocket,'  said  Peter,  *  but  'tis  all 
I  have.' 

"  *  Well,  since  it  must  be  so,'  replied  the  colonel,  '  I  must  take 
it.  What  about  this  shadow,  is  it  yours  ?' 

"  '  Yes  !'  replied  Peter. 

"  '  Well,  the  case  is  a  bad  one  ;  but  we  will  make  the  best  of  it.' 

"  '  The  trial  must  proceed,'  said  the  Rabbi,  in  his  loudest  tones. 

"  *  We  are  ready,  sir,'  said  the  colonel  in  a  confident  tone,  as 
though  Peter  had  given  him  all  the  means  to  repel  the  charge. 

"The  learned  attorney  for  the  prosecution  went  on — 'May  it 
please  your  honors,  I  am  aware  of  the  extreme  difficulty  of  prov 
ing  the  identity  of  one,  who  has  doubtless,  by  some  diabolical 
arts,  made  himself  invisible;  but  I  hope  to  do  it  satisfactorily. 
I  shall  produce  his  letters,  written  to  his  sister,  showing  you 
that  he  is  leading  the  life  of  a  vagabond,  and  further,  that  the 
letters  so  written  are  the  handwriting  of  the  prisoner  now  in  the 


206  PETER  SCHLEMIHL. 

custody  of  the  court.  And  with  the  consent  of  the  court,  I  will 
begin  at  the  end.' 

"  '  A  strange  beginning,  by  St.  Patrick,'  cried  out  an  Irishman. 

"  '  S'lence  court !'  cried  out  the  man  with  the  pole. 

"  '  Walk  light,'  cried  out  another. 

"  The  attorney  smiled  very  graciously  at  the  commotion  made 
by  his  Irish  friend,  and  begged  the  court  to  call  as  witness  in  the 
case,  Gottfried  Jahn.'  He  was  called  and  took  the  stand. 

"  *  What  do  you  know  of  the  prisoner  at  the  bar  ?'  said  the  at 
torney. 

"  '  I  don't  know  any  ding  ov  de  brisoner,'  replied  the  old  Ger 
man. 

"  '  What  do  you  know  of  Peter  Schlemihl,  then  ?'  asked  the 
Rabbi. 

"  '  Von  night,  as  I  was  closing  mein  shopt,  a  bair  of  boots  vas 
drown  down  mein  steps,  and  dis  letter,  which  condained  a  half 
guinea,  vich  I  spend  next  day.'  Here  he  handed  the  note  to  the 
clerk,  who  at  the  direction  of  the  judge  read  it. 

"  '  Monday  night. 

"  '  Mr.  Jahn  : — Please  put  on  the  very  best  pair  of  English  soles 
on  these  boots,  and  at  eleven  o'clock  to-morrow  night,  stand  with 
them  in  your  hand  at  the  top  of  your  steps,  and  they  will  be 
taken  out  of  your  hands,  by  one  who  shall  say  to  you,  "It  is 
well ;"  and  oblige, 

"  *  PETER  SCHLEMIHL.' 

"  '  And  what  did  you  do  with  the  boots  ?'  said  the  Rabbi. 

"  '  Veil  sir,  on  Monday  I  but  on  de  soles  meinself,  and  but 
dem  on  de  counter,  and  dat  night  dey  vere  stolen  by  a  pad  poy 
who  vas  my  abbrendice,  and  I  never  saw  dem  more.' 

"  '  How  did  you  satisfy  Peter  Schlemihl,  sir  ?'  asked  the  Rabbi. 

"  '  Vy,  de  next  night,  I  took  one  of  my  best  bair  of  boots  of  de 
same  measure,  and  as  I  stood  dere  vaiting  for  de  man,  somepody 
took  de  boots  out  of  my  hand,  and  said,  "it  ish  well,"  and  before 
I  could  say  a  vord  to  him,  he  was  gone.' 

"  *  Did  you  see  the  man  ?'  asked  the  advocate. 

"'No  sir,  I  never  seed  him  at  all,  so  I  shouldn't  know  him 
from  Adam.' 

"'Very  well,'  said  the  attorney,  'that  is  enough.  Now  may 
it  please  your  honors,  I  will  place  before  you  some  of  Peter's 
letters,  and  by  a  comparison  of  the  very  peculiar  handwriting, 
you  will  see- that  the  same  hand  wrote  this  note  and  these  letters.' 

The  letters  were  handed  up  and  compared,  to  the  entire  satis 
faction  of  their  honors,  who  replied,  this  point  was  made  out  per 
fectly.  The  letters  were  then  read,  and  the  fact  of  his  vagrant 


207 

life  was  equally  well  sustained.  Nothing  was  left,  but  to  show 
the  identity  of  the  prisoner  with  the  shadow,  which  was  now  un 
rolled,  to  the  wonder  of  the  populace.  The  attorney  shook  it 
out,  and  held  it  up  so  all  might  see. 

"  'And  what  do  you  mean  to  make  of  that?'  asked  the  colonel. 

"  'That  we  shall  see  by  and  by,'  replied  the  attorney. 

"'May  it  please  your  honors,'  said  the  colonel,  'I  object  to 
the  evidence  just  offered,  as  being  in  no  way  conclusive  in  any 
particular,  and  before  any  further  evidence  is  offered,  I  wish  to 
offer  my  exceptions.' 

" '  Let  these  exceptions  wait  awhile,'  said  the  attorney,  '  till  all 
the  proof  is  adduced.' 

"  '  I  shall  do  no  such  thing,'  replied  the  colonel.  '  My  client 
has  rights,  and  he  has  committed  them  to  my  care,  and  I  demand 
the  privilege  of  excepting  to  evidence  I  deem  pointless,  and  not 
worth  a  straw  in  any  court  of  Christendom.' 

"  '  You  make  your  assertions  very  confidently,'  said  the  Rabbi. 
'  What  are  your  exceptions;  to  me  the  chain  of  evidence  is  very 
clear.' 

" '  May  it  please  your  honors,'  said  the  colonel,  evidently  ad 
dressing  himself  to  the  work  as  one  well  acquainted  with  his 
business,  '  I  presume  this  is  a  Court  of  Justice,  in  this  great  city 
of  Babylon  the  Less,  and  that  your  honors  have  no  blinders  on 
your  eyes,  to  prevent  your  seeing  both  sides  of  this  question.' 

"  '  Put  a  bridle  on  your  tongue,  colonel,'  said  the  Rabbi,  '  or 
you  will  find  your  way  through  that  door,'  pointing  to  a  door 
leading  to  the  prison. 

"  'I  know  all  the  ins  and^outs  of  this  building,  may  it  please 
your  honors ;  and  I  shall  keep  within  the  bar  of  my  privileges, 
and  no  threats  shall  deter  me  from  discharging  my  duties  to  my 
client  in  my  accustomed  outright  and  downright,  and  (bowing  to 
the  judges)  I  hope  I  may  be  permitted  to  say,  my  upright  man 
ner.  What,  then,  are  the  facts  in  this  case?  a  poor  unfortunate 
man,  bereft  of  his  shadow,  flies  from  his  persecutor  in  the  old 
world,  and  seeks  safety  in  this  asylum  of  the  oppressed.  And 
who,  my  friends  and  fellow-citizens,  ever  heard  of  the  like ;  a 
man  so  persecuted  as  is  my  friend  and  client,  Peter  Schlemihl? 
After,  by  his  own  confession,  robbing  him  of  his  purse,  the  Gen 
tleman  in  Black  now  seeks  to  rob  him  of  his  reputation. 

"  Who  steals  my  purse,  steals  trash ;  'tis  something,  nothing ; 
'Twas  mine,  'tis  his,  and  has  been  slave  to  thousands ; 
But  he,  that  filches  from  me  my  good  name, 
Robs  me  of  that,  which  not  enriches  him, 
And  makes  me  poor  indeed." 

"  Garrick  could  not  have  made  the  recitation  better  than  the 


208  PETER  SCHLEMIHL. 

colonel.  His  air  at  the  close  was  the  personification  of  despond 
ency  and  despair. 

"  '  But,'  continued  the  colonel,  '  how  does  this  evidence  attach 
itself  to  my  client?  Here  are  letters  written,  said  to  be  written 
by  him,  but  who  is  here  to  prove  it?' 

"  '  May  it  please  your  honors,'  said  the  attorney,  '  I  beg  to  be 
permitted  to  say  one  word  at  this  point  of  my  brother's  remarks, 
and  beg  his  pardon  for  the  interruption,'  bowing  to  the  colonel. 

" '  Go  on,'  said  the  colonel,  '  the  truth  can  bear  the  test  of 
time.' 

"  The  attorney  bowed  very  graciously  to  the  colonel,  and  turn 
ing  to  the  judges,  said — '  Your  honors  will  find,  by  a  reference  to 
Gilbert  on  Evidence,  p.  142,  that  presumptive  proofs  are  ruled 
to  stand  good  till  the  contrary  is  proved.  Now  I  undertake  to 
say,  that  the  evidence  I  have  offered  and  shall  offer,  meet  all  the 
demands  of  Coke  upon  Littleton,  Book  vi.,  as  being  violent,  pro 
bable  and  light.  Now  I  need  not  remind  your  honors,  that  in 
all  such  dark  transactions  as  those  in  which  the  prisoner  is  en 
gaged,  from  the  very  secret  manner  in  which  guilty  actions  are 
generally  done,  it  is  seldom  possible  to  give  direct  evidence  of 
the  offences  charged.  And  in  1  Phillips,  155,  it  is  held,  that  there 
is  no  difference  between  civil  and  criminal  cases,  with  reference 
to  the  modes  of  proof  by  direct  and  circumstantial  evidence,  except 
in  the  former;  the  civil,  (I  beg  to  call  your  honors'  attention  to  this 
point,)  where  civil  rights  are  ascertained,  a  less  degree  of  proba 
bility  may  safely  be  adopted  as  a  ground  of  judgment.  Now  the 
indictment  is  on  the  mere  charge  of  vagrancy ;  hardly  a  crime,  and, 
therefore,  this  liberality  of  construction  and  application,  I  pre 
sume,  your  honors  will  apply  to  the  case  in  hand.' 

"  *  Certainly,'  said  the  Rabbi,  '  nothing  more  proper.' 

"  '  Really,'  replied  the  colonel,  *  all  that  my  brother  says  seems 
to  have  the  force  of  Gospel  truth.  I  shan't  cite  learned  authority  to 
prove  facts  as  plain  as  the  nose  your  honor  (bowing  to  the  Rabbi) 
has  the  happiness  of  being  possessed  of.1 

"  '  I  shall  allow  no  personal  reflections  upon  myself,'  said  the 
Rabbi,  sternly. 

"  'Well,  your  honor,  if  you  don't  feel  assured  as  to  your  own 
nose,  I  think  there's  no  one  but  yourself  that  does  not  know  it 
to  be  a  fixed  fact.' 

"  '  Go  on,  sir !'  cried  out  the  Rabbi. 

"  '  I  will,  may  it  please  your  honors — I  will  go  on  to  say,  I 
shan't  cite  Newton,  nor  Laplace,  nor  even  Doctor  Bowdich,  to 
prove  that  the  sun  shines.  Nor  will  I  presume  to  disgrace  the 
court  by  telling  them  where  they  will  find  the  authorities  for  the 
axiom  in  law  of  evidence,  in  criminal  as  well  as  in  civil  proceed- 


209 

ings,  for  the  counsel  for  the  prosecution  does  not  seem  to  know 
which  he  will  call  it,  that  "  he  who  affirms  a  fact  has  to  prove 
it ;"  nor  that  other  axiom  of  law,  "  my  client  is  to  be  considered 
innocent  till  he  is  proved  guilty ;"  or  that  other  rule,  "  that  the 
facts  proved  must  be  strictly  relevant  to  the  particular  charge, 
and  have  no  reference  to  any  conduct  of  the  prisoner  unconnected 
with  such  charge."  And  still  further,  "  that  the  admission  by 
the  prisoner  even,  that  he  had  committed  such  an  offence  at  an 
other  time,  and  with  another  person,  and  that  he  has  a  tendency 
to  such  practices,  ought  not  to  be  received." 

"  '  Your  authority,  if  you  please/  said  the  Rabbi. 

"  *  If  the  court  needs  law  for  such  plain  obvious  truths,  I  would 
respectfully  recommend  them  to  take  the  first  culprit  they  can 
find,  and  put  him  in  the  seat  now  so  inadequately  filled.' 

"  '  I  will  order  your  arrest  instantly,  if  you  again  address  the 
court  in  this  style,'  cried  the  presiding  judge  in  a  towering  pas 
sion. 

"  The  colonel  was  as  cool  and  '  as  calm  as  a  summer's  morn 
ing.'  '  I  had  supposed,'  said  he,  bowing  to  his  honor,  '  that  you 
held  to  the  doctrine  of  reform  and  rotation  in  office ;  and  I  have 
seen  men  who  have  had  the  agreeable  occupation  of  tying  slip 
knots  under  the  ears  of  culprits,  whose  turn  for  such  a  sublime 
eminence  ought,  by  this  time,  to  be  attained.' 

"  'You  are  enough  to  provoke  a  saint,'  said  the  Rabbi,  in  a 
tone  of  extreme  impatience. 

"  'I  beg  your  honor's  pardon,'  replied  the  colonel,  with  the 
greatest  gravity  ;  *  but  I  was  not  aware  that  the  rare  felicity  ac 
corded,  I  believe,  through  mistake  (of  being  canonized  while  yet 
alive),  to  St.  John  Nepomecun  had  been  conferred  upon  your 
honor.  I  trust,  if  your  honor  has  already  attained  the  beatitude 
of  canonization,  there's  no  such  mistake  in  a  matter  of  such  vast 
importance.' 

"  '  I  must  insist  on  your  ceasing  your  banter,  and  go  on  with 
your  reasons  for  excepting  to  the  evidence  already  before  the 
court,'  replied  the  judge. 

"  '  Most  willingly,  your  honors  ;  I  have  further  to  say,  you 
want  authority  for  my  law.  Well,  I  can  quote  law  sometimes, 
as  well  as  my  learned  brother,  though,  I  must  confess,  the  best 
of  all  law  is  the  law  of  common  sense  and  common  honesty  ; 
very  rare,'  bowing  lowly  to  the  bench,  '  I  am  well  aware,  in  all 
courts  of  justice,  "falsely  so  called."  In  the  positions  taken 
by  me,  I  then  beg  leave  to  refer  you  to  Rex  v.  Cole,  Michaelmas 
Term,  1810,  see  1  Phillips,  170;  and,  also,  Viney  v.  Barss, 
1  Espinasse's  Reports,  292.  See,  also,  Balcetti  v.  Serani,  Peake's 
14 


210  PETER  SCHLEMIHL. 

Nisi  Prius,  141 ;  Graft  v.  Bertee,  Peake's  Evidence,  104.     Will 
that  do  ?' 

" '  All  sufficient,'  said  the  judge  ;  '  please  proceed.' 

" '  And,  may  it  please  the  court,'  continued  the  colonel,  '  I  have 
one  word  to  say  as  to  the  evidence  of  handwriting,  on  which  the 
state's  attorney  relies  so  confidently.  Who  is  to  prove  the  prisoner 
at  the  bar  ever  saw  them  ?  and  how  will  the  prosecutor  show  that 
the  prisoner  is  the  Peter  Schlemihl,  whose  shadow  has  been  pa 
raded  like  an  old  silk  apron  to  the  wonderment  of  the  free  and 
enlightened  citizens  of  Babylon,  here  present?' 

"'If  the  colonel  will  make  a  finish,'  said  the  state's  attorney, 
'  we  will  soon  show  him  how  this  is  to  be  done.' 

"  '  All  in  good  time,'  replied  the  colonel.  '  Now  I  wish  to  re 
fer  the  court  to  an  extreme  case,  which  shows  what  all  these  let 
ters  are  worth  in  the  work  of  convicting  my  client.  In  the  case 
of  Hardy — your  honors  will  find  it  in  24  How's  State  Trials,  p. 
452 — certain  writings  of  his  were  found  in  the  possession  of  his 
accomplices,  but  were  not  allowed  to  be  read  against  him,  unless 
there  was  evidence  to  show  their  existence  in  his  possession  at 
the  times  they  were  so  affirmed  to  be  of  his  writing.  Now  how 
is  all  this  to  be  shown  ?  I  deny  all  that  has  yet  been  offered,  and 
offer  these  as  my  exceptions.' 

"  The  district  attorney  then  proceeded  to  say,  '  I  don't  mean  to 
trespass  on  the  time  of  the  court  further,  in  any  reply  to  what  my 
learned  brother  has  said.  I  submit  the  case  so  far  as  already 
presented,  and  will  now  beg  the  court  to  permit  me  to  show  that 
the  shadow  I  hold  in  my  hand  belongs  to  the  well-known  Peter 
Schlemihl.' 

"  So  saying,  the  district  attorney  entered  the  space  behind  the 
judges,  and  pinned  the  shadow  very  smoothly  against  the  wall. 
This  done,  he  produced  a  long  lead  pencil,  and  requested  the 
prisoner  to  be  placed  against  the  wall,  that  his  profile  and 
shadow  might  be  thus  drawn  on  the  wall,  so  that  a  comparison 
could  be  instituted. 

"  Peter  was  led  into  the  space  and  placed  against  the  wall, 
and  the  attorney  began  drawing  the  profile,  and  when  the  pencil 
reached  his  mouth,  he  bit  hold  of  it  with  his  teeth,  and  held  it 
fast.  His  honor,  the  associate  judge,  came  to  the  help  of  the 
attorney,  and  Peter  thinking  his  only  hope  for  escape  had  come, 
gave  his  honor  a  kick  in  the  belly,  remarkable  for  its  graceful 
curves  and  expansive  waistband,  which  at  once  took  his  breath 
away  and  laid  him  lifeless.  The  Rabbi  ran  to  raise  him,  and 
Peter,  by  a  dextrous  grab  pulled  off  his  scratch,  and  threw  it  into 
his  honor's  face,  blinding  him  with  the  dust  from  his  wig,  and 
with  a  back-handed  blow,  sent  the  state's  attorney  reeling,  and 


PETER  ESCAPES.  211 

having  thus   disposed  of  the  court,  in  some  unknown  way  es 
caped. 

"  In  an  instant  all  was  an  uproar  in  the  court  room. 

"  *  Seize  him  !'  vociferated  the  Rabbi. 

"  '  Fair  play  is  a  jewel,'  cried  the  Irishman,  'let's  have  a  fair 
fight.' 

"  The  crowd,  frightened  lest  they  should  be  engaged  in  a  melee, 
rushed  out  of  the  room.  The  policemen  were  groping  about, 
seizing  first  this  man  and  then  that,  and  receiving  blows  from  all 
sides. 

"  '  Give  him  a  fair  chance,  fellow-citizens,'  cried  the  colonel, 
and  the  search  was  greatly  impeded  by  the  state  of  the  public 
mind,  which  seemed  panic-stricken  for  fear  that  the  invisible  Peter 
would  make  them  the  examples  of  his  powers. 

"  In  the  meanwhile  the  search  was  made  behind  the  judges, 
seat,  but  this  was  no  little  impeded  by  the  anxiety  for  his  honor, 
the  associate  judge,  who  as  yet  gave  no  signs  of  life. 

"  '  Send  for  the  Doctor  !'  was  the  cry  behind  the  bench. 

"  '  Don't  press  here.' 

"  *  More  air  !  more  air !' 

"  The  court  room  was  now  cleared  of  all  but  a  few  who  re 
mained  by  the  lifeless  judge.  The  Doctor  came,  and  the  eyes  of 
the  judge  opened  with  a  vacant  stare.  Gasping  for  breath,  he  was 
at  last  restored,  and  able  to  be  put  into  a  hack  and  sent  home. 
In  bearing  him  to  the  carriage,  the  Rabbi  helped  in  this  labor  of 
love,  and  on  turning  round,  saw  the  colonel  standing  with  his 
hands  in  his  pockets  in  a  musing  posture,  as  though  he  was  think 
ing  deeply. 

"  4  What  a  jackass  you  have  made  of  yourself,  Bang-bang!'  was 
the  very  awakening  address  made  by  the  Rabbi  to  the  colonel. 

"  *  The  rascal !'  said  the  colonel,  *  he's  off  and  defrauded  me  of 
my  fee.' 

"  '  What  could  have  induced  you  to  act  the  Marplot  in  this 
affair?'  said  the  Rabbi. 

"  *  If  the  Gentleman  in  Black  had  had  a  thimble  full  of  respect 
for  my  talents,  or  of  his  own  interests,'  replied  the  colonel,  '  he 
would  have  retained  me  ;  but  he  will  learn  a  lesson  which,  I  hope, 
will  be  equally  valuable  to  him,  as  to  myself.' 

"  And  so  ended,  madam,  the  arrest  and  escape  of  Peter,  and 
from  that  time  to  this,  I  have  heard  nothing  of  him." 

"  Poor  Peter!"  said  Mrs.  Smith,  "I  sincerely  pity  him,  and  beg 
you  will  pardon  him  ;  I'm  sure  he  is  every  way  to  be  pitied." 

"Pardon!  madam,  pardon!  is  with  me  'an  unparliamentary 
word.'  His  only  safety  is  in  keeping  out  of  my  way.  To  be 
outwitted  would  be  both  dangerous  and  dishonorable  to  me,  and 


212  PBTER  SCHLEMIHL. 

would  set  an  example  which  others  might  seek  to  follow.  It  is, 
therefore,  not  less  a  matter  of  pride  than  necessity  for  me  to  con 
tinue  my  pursuit  of  him.  No,  madam,  I  must  have  the  body  ;  I 
have  never  yet  taken  the  shadow  for  the  substance. 

"  Soon  after  this  arrest  and  trial,"  continued  the  Gentleman  in 
Black,  "  there  appeared  the  communication  of  which  I  have  told 
you  in  the  Babylonian  *  Times,'  purporting  to  have  been  written 
by  our  Peter,  and  as  it  afforded  some  amusement  at  the  time, 
and  appears  probable  to  have  come  from  him,  I  have  carefully 
preserved  a  copy  of  the  article,  which,  if  you  should  be  pleased 
to  hear  it,  I  will  read  to  you." 

"  By  all  means,"  said  Mrs.  Smith  ;  "  I  feel  deeply  concerned 
to  know  all  you  can  tell  me  of  this  most  unhappy  wight." 

"  I  have  no  sympathy  for  him,  madam  ;  but  if  it  will  please  you 
to  hear  his  own  story,  I  will  read  you  the  article."  The  Gentle 
man  in  Black  took  from  his  pocket  the  paper  in  question,  which 
was  tied  up  carefully  with  a  bundle  of  Peter's  letters ;  and  read 
the  article  as  follows  : — 

"  '  To  the  Babylonian  Times. 

"'Messrs.  EDITORS: — The  public  have  been  advised  of  the 
arrest  and  trial  of  Peter  Schlemihl,  and  of  his  escape.  I  shall  not 
recount  the  grounds  of  my  arrest,  nor  the  course  adopted  for  my 
conviction.  With  these  the  public  are  already  informed.  But  I 
wish  to  place  before  your  readers  the  notes  of  the  judges,  which, 
as  they  were  matters  of  special  interest  to  me,  I  ventured  to  take 
up  and  put  in  my  pocket,  in  my  way  out  of  the  hall.  I  presume 
every  person  present,  as  well  as  myself,  from  the  assiduity  with 
which  the  judges  plied  their  pens,  believed  that  they  were  mak 
ing  notes  of  the  arguments  of  the  counsel.  They  may  be  as 
much  surprised,  as  I  must  confess  I  was,  on  reading  the  following, 
which  is  copied  with  all  exactness  from  the  notes  now  in  my 
possession.  The  notes  of  the  Rabbi  Ben  Jarchi,  shows  the  hope 
lessness  of  my  case,  though  defended  by  the  admirable  Col.  Bang- 
bang,  to  whom  I  beg  to  make  my  acknowledgments  ;  and  I  am 
sure  the  method  adopted  by  me  of  effecting  my  escape  will  be 
pardoned  by  the  public,  whose  sympathies  must  be  enlisted  on 
the  side  of  their  unfortunate  friend  and  well-wisher, 

'"PETER  SCHLEMIHL.' 

"The  notes  of  the  venerable  Rabbi  read  as  follows: — 'Court 
Record.' 

ARREST,  TRIAL  AND  CONDEMNATION  OF  PETER  SCHLEMIHL. 

"  '  We  were  present  yesterday  in  the  courtroom,  and  witnessed 
the  arraignment  of  the  notorious  PETER  SCHLEMIHL,  of  whom  our 


BEN  JARCHl's  ARTICLE  ON  ARREST  OF  PETER.       213 

readers  have  doubtless  heard,  as  having  sold  himself,  or  his 
shadow,  or  both,  to  a  certain  Gentleman  in  Black,  whom  he 
wickedly,  and  most  maliciously  dares  to  say,  is  the  very  distin 
guished  financier,  whose  operations  have  been  so  extensively 
known  in  Change  Alley,  and  whose  character  stands  before  the 
moneyed  world  in  such  strong  lights,  showing  himself  the  very 
personification  of  honor  and  of  fair  business  transactions;  a  gen 
tleman  whom  he  has  libelled  in  every  country  of  Europe,  as 
being  his  chief  enemy;  by  whom,  he  affirms,  he  has  been  basely 
defrauded  of  his  shadow. 

"  '  In  a  city  where  the  Gentleman  in  Black  is  so  well  known, 
and  among  a  commercial  community,  where  he  is  so  well  appre 
ciated,  we  need  say  nothing  in  reply  to  the  thousand  libels  which 
have  been  so  industriously  and  widely  circulated  by  the  vagabond 
in  question. 

"  '  The  fact  of  the  arrival  of  this  well-known  Peter,  was  com 
municated  to  the  police  more  than  a  year  since;  but  the  difficulty 
of  tracing  a  man  who,  by  some  compact  with  Satan,  had  disposed 
of  his  visibility,  has  made  the  pursuit  one  of  extreme  difficulty. 
But  though  it  would  seem  all  but  impossible,  thanks  to  our  un 
surpassed  and  unwearied  star-police,  they  have  at  last  laid  their 
hands  upon  him. 

"  *  We  presume  there  are  but  few  families  who  have  not  been 
visited  by  this  miscreant  and  vagabond,  though  utterly  unconscious 
of  his  presence.  They  will  now  be  able  to  solve  many  enigmas, 
heretofore  especially  perplexing  and  sometimes  distressing.  We 
have  been  aware  of  the  source  of  the  disquietudes  which  have 
been  so  constantly  expressed  in  every  section  and  circle  of  our 
city.  Gentlemen  boarders  especially,  in  innumerable  instances, 
having  opened  a  bottle  or  two  of  O.  L.  P.  Madeira,  and  drank 
some  two  or  three  glasses  only,  and  carefully  corked  and  set  these 
bottles  in  side-boards,  locked  with  patent  keys,  to  their  surprise 
and  painful  astonishment,  on  opening  these  closets,  and  handling 
these  same  bottles,  have  discovered  that  there  had  been  a  most 
mysterious  disappearance  of  their  contents — a  mere  taste  or  so, 
of  wine  at  the  bottom  of  a  bottle,  which  the  day  before  was  all 
but  full!  The  impossibility  of  accounting  for  the  phenomenon, 
has  induced  the  Babylonian  Society  of  Arts  and  Sciences  to  turn 
their  attention  to  this  subject,  and  they  have  had  read  and  print 
ed  various  very  curious  papers  upon  spontaneous  absorption, 
while  the  Philosophical  Academy  have  traced  this  phenomenon 
to  the  rarefaction  of  the  atmosphere,  and  have  proceeded  to  show 
by  strictest  research  and  analysis,  why  this  phenomenon  is  so 
common  to  private  rooms  in  hotels  and  boarding-houses.  And 


214  PETER  SCHLEMIHL. 

though  there  is  no  reason  to  question  the  scientific  results  of  these 
papers,  nor  that  such  is  the  law  of  the  disappearance  of  liquids 
of  peculiar  descriptions  under  such  circumstances  ;  yet  there  were 
still  other  phenomena  which  remained  unsolved.  Professor 
Maybe's  paper,  read  before  the  Academy,  we  deem  one  of  the 
finest  examples  of  reproductive  chemical  power,  or  of  qualitative 
and  quantitative  analysis.  We  may  be  permitted  here  to  state, 
in  passing,  that  the  professor  has  obtained,  (by  a  process  as  yet 
secret,  but  which  we  are  assured  is  perfectly  simple  and  readily 
applied,)  from  four  cubic  feet  of  atmospheric  air,  taken  out  of 
Florence's  Saloon,  three  drops  of  brandy,  one  of  sherry-cobbler, 
and  one  of  O.  L.  P.  Madeira,  each  in  its  normal  state ;  and  he 
confidently  expects  to  be  able  to  condense  the  atmospheres  of 
Salles  a  manger,  so  as  to  return  to  the  bar  the  liquors  in  the  exact 
conditions  in  which  they  were  taken  into  the  system.  We  can 
hardly  conceive  of  any  discovery  more  important  to  the  Baby 
lonians  than  this  of  Professor  Maybe's. 

"  '  But  to  return  to  the  subject  of  our  article. 

"  '  The  class  of  unresolved  and  carefully  observed  phenomena 
are  so  various,  that  we  are  at  a  loss  how  to  enumerate  them.  For 
example,  a  beef's  tongue  which  had  just  been  cut  into,  \vith  a  bag 
of  crackers,  placed  on  the  same  shelf  with  the  wine  we  have  al 
ready  spoken  of,  has  been  known  to  disappear  under  such  circum 
stances  as  to  render  it  all  but  impossible  to  have  been  the  work  of 
any  other  than  that  of  a  thief — and  yet  this,  under  the  condition  of 
the  case  and  character  of  the  lady  of  the  house  and  of  her  servants, 
was  beyond  all  question.  Nor  was  this  all,  letters  the  most  confi 
dential  in  their  character  have  been  in  some  cases  stolen  ;  in  other 
cases,  these  missives  have  been  evidently  taken  out  and  read  by 
some  person  unknown  and  replaced  in  the  wrong  envelops  ;  and 
secrets  of  the  most  momentous  character  have  been  by  some 
means  altogether  inscrutable,  communicated  through  a  wide  circle 
of  friends  to  the  greatest  possible  injury  of  the  parties  concerned. 
And  so  frequent  have  been  occurrences  of  this  kind,  especially  in 
the  upper  circles  of  our  great  city,  that  the  attention  of  the  police 
has  been  repeatedly  called  to  the  facts,  and  their  utmost  vigi 
lance  has  been  awakened,  and  tasked  to  discover  the  culprit,  who 
has  been  the  cause  of  all  these  inquietudes.  We  could  state  facts 
illustrative  of  the  serious  troubles  which  have  arisen  in  some  cir 
cles  from  the  untoward  discoveries  we  have  hinted  at;  but  we 
presume  enough  has  been  said  to  awaken  the  public  mind  to  the 
interest  they  will  naturally  feel  in  the  promulgation  of  the  startling 
announcement,  that  the  culprit  has  been  caught — Peter  Schlemihl 
has  been  arrested  !  Justice  has  at  last  taken  him  in  hand,  and  he 
was  brought  before  the  honorable  court  of  Justice,  now  in  session 


JUDGE  TOMKINS'  NOTES.  215 

at  the  court  of  the  Tombs,  on  yesterday  between  the  hours  of  ten 
and  eleven  o'clock.' 

"  '  Their  honors,  Rabbi  Ben  Jarchi,  presiding,  and  the  Honor 
able  Justice  Tomkins,  associate  judge,  took  their  seats  at  11 
o'clock  precisely,  when  the  prisoner  was  arraigned  on  the  charge 
of  being  a  vagabond.  To  which,  as  might  have  been  expected, 
he  pleaded  "  Not  Guilty."  The  case  was  opened  with  great  clear 
ness  and  force  of  argument  by  the  state's  attorney,  and  the  pri 
soner  was  defended  with  more  than  his  accustomed  ability  by 
Colonel  Bang-bang.  The  facts  were  fully  proved,  and  the  charge 
brought  home  upon  the  prisoner  at  the  bar,  without  a  shadow  of 
doubt,  and  after  consultation  on  the  part  of  the  judges,  and  having 
compared  notes,  they  agreed  in  sending  the  prisoner  to  the  Tombs 
for  one  year  close  confinement.  We  presume  he  will  be  safely 
lodged,  and  we  understand  from  private  sources  that  the  distin 
guished  financier  who  has  been  so  often  struck  at  by  the  culprit, 
designs  to  take  him  in  hand  so  soon  as  the  term  of  his  present 
imprisonment  shall  expire. — FIAT  JUSTITIA.' 


1  'JUDGE  TOMKINS   NOTES. 

"  '  St.  Bartholomew's  Day. 
"  '  To  my  Dear  Friend, 

"  '  t  GEORGE,  Bishop  of  Peach  Orchard. 

"  '  I  am  in  receipt  of  your  kind  letter,  dated  on  St.  James'  day, 
and  have  had  the  request  you  have  therein  expressed,  under  con 
sideration. 

"  *  I  am  as  deeply  impressed  with  the  necessity  of  correcting 
the  popular  sentiment,  as  to  the  "  Man  of  Sin"  and  the  "  Scarlet 
Whore,"  as  you  could  wish  me  to  be.  These  are  now  univer 
sally  received  as  the  types  of  the  Romish  Church,  and,  as  such, 
must  be  met  and  obviated,  for  while  the  commonly  received  opi 
nion  obtains,  the  position  of  our  Church  must  remain,  to  say  the 
least  of  it,  painfully  equivocal.  The  Vestal  Virgin  of  the  Angli 
can  Church  cannot  be  too  soon  rescued  from  the  companionship 
of  the  lady  in  scarlet,  and  the  embraces  of  the  "  Man  of  Sin." 

"  *  My  wife  thinks  I  had  better  confine  myself  to  the  annihila 
tion  of  the  *'  Man  of  Sin,"  and  leave  you  to  manage  the  lady  in 
question.  Indeed,  I  feel  myself  totally  unable  to  the  task  of  mas 
tering  so  hard  a  subject,  and  feel  that  a  younger  man  than  myself 
can  do  the  Church  better  service,  and  I  know  of  no  one  so  well 
fitted  for  this  "  labor  of  love,"  as  it  may  truly  be  called,  as  your 
self.  Permit  me  to  beg  you  to  address  yourself  to  the  task  of 
taking  the  lady  in  the  scarlet  dress  in  hand,  while  I  make  war 
upon  the  "  Man  of  Sin."  You  must  be  as  deeply  sensible  of  the 


216  PETER  SCHLEMIHL. 

fact  as  myself,  that  the  highest  success  on  my  part,  in  the  task  I 
willingly  assume,  will  be  of  no  value,  while  the  Scarlet  Whore 
retains  her  present  position  in  the  public  mind  as  the  lawful  Sis 
ter  of  our  Virgin  Mother,  or,  as  some  "ultra  Protestants"  (I  refer 
to  the  low  church  party)  regard  her,  as  little  better  than  the  in 
cestuous  Mother  of  our  Church.* 

"  '  Jenkins  v.  Jones,  assault ;  Bang-bang  for  defendant.  Clear 
case,  and  yet  Bang-bang  talks  by  the  hour — what  a  jackass  he 
makes  of  himself.' 


"  '  I  found  it,  my  lord,  a  very  perplexing  subject,  to  find  out  a 
similarity  between  this  lady  and  any  one  of  the  forms  of  heresy. 
I  have  thought  if,  by  any  ingenious  and  learned  exegesis,  the 
word  scarlet  could  be  changed  to  drab,  it  might  suit  the  com 
plexion  of  the  Society  of  Friends,  and,  in  this  way,  the  difficulty 
might  be  obviated  and  satisfactorily  solved  ;  and  as  they  are  a 
very  inoffensive  race  of  men  and  women,  would,  probably,  take 
all  this  quietly — indeed,  they  might  think  it  a  compliment. 
I  must  confess,  indeed  I  fear  you  will  find  this  not  unlike  Sir 
Joseph  Banks'  experiment  of  the  boiled  fleas,  though  I  am  sure 
your  lordship's  well-known  courtesy  and  devotedness  to  the  sex 
are  such,  that  should  you  fail  totrans  form  the  fair  sleek  quaker 
lady  into  this  meretricious  woman,  you  will  not  be  impelled  to 
utter  the  anathema  upon  them,  which  was  so  terribly  expressed 
by  Sir  Joseph  on  finding  that  "fleas  ain't  lobsters." 

"  '  It  is  certainly  surprising  that  the  venerable  and  Apostolical 
Church  of  Rome  could,  with  their  eyes  open,  and  the  Scriptures 
in  their  possession,  have  assumed  for  its  high  dignitaries  a  habit 
so  entirely  foreign,  and  in  such  sad  contrast  with  the  usual  cos 
tume  and  color  prescribed  for  the  clergy.  I  am  sure  it  is  one  of 
the  devices  of  Satan,  permitted  as  a  stumbling-block  in  the  way 
of  those  who  seek  for  rocks  of  offence.  To  your  lordship, 
therefore,  I  again  commend  this  hard  task  of  divorcing  our  be 
loved  Virgin  Church  from  this  more  than  doubtful  relationship 
subsisting,  by  general  consent  of  the  public  mind,  between  the 
Vestals  of  Christ,  the  Churches  of  Rome,  England  and  America, 

*  "  'The  notes  of  the  judge  were  written  in  a  book  composed  of  sheets  of 
letter  paper  sewed  together,  so  that,  in  my  haste,  I  took  the  entire  book,  which 
is  copied  verbatim.  The  memorandums,  as  the  above,  occur  as  breaks  in  the 
letter  he  seems  to  have  designed  for  one  of  the  dignitaries  of  the  Church. 
The  essays  which  follow  really  appeared  in  the  Churchman  in  the  months 
of  February  and  March,  1847;  but  the  series  on  the  "Scarlet  Whore"  have 
not  yet  been  published.  The  public  will,  no  doubt,  look  for  them  with  eager 
ness. — PETBR  SCHLEMIHL.' 


217 

and  the  Scarlet  Whore,  the  type  of  sensuality  and  sin,  while  I 
shall  do  my  best  to  stay  this  Goliah  of  Gath,  "  the  Man  of 
Sin."  ' 

"  '  Margaret  Hanson  v.  Abigail  Smith.  Stealing  a  dress — 
sweet  young  girl  of  17.' 

"  '  I  propose,  then,  my  Lord  Bishop,  to  prepare  a  series  of 
papers  for  the  "Churchman,"  and  shall  treat  the  subject  after 
some  such  method  as  the  following: — 

"  '  THE    MAN    OF    SIN.* 

"  '  It  may  do  something  towards  the  accomplishment  of  my 
leading  design,  to  mention  some  of  the  interpretations  that  have 
been  given  to  the  passage  under  consideration — (2  Thess.  2,  3, 
4?) — though  I  have  no  intention  to  remark  at  length  upon  any  of 
them,  except  the  one  referred  to  in  my  last,  and  one  more  to  be 
named  in  this  communication. 

"  '  1 .  I  gave  in  my  last  what  may  be  called  the  ultra-Pro 
testant  interpretation,  by  which  popery  is  the  falling  away,  or 
artooT'aflia,  and  the  Bishop  of  Rome,  in  his  pretended  character  of 
vicar  of  Christ,  or  pope — is  "  the  Man  of  Sin." 

"  *  2.  I  might  mention,  as  the  counterpart  of  this,  what  may 
be  called  the  ultra-Papal  interpretation,  which  considers  the  Pro 
testant  reformation,  including  the  English  church  with  the  rest,  as 
the  falling  away,  or  apostacy — and  protestantism  "  the  Man  of 
Sin." 

"  '  3.  The  next  theory  that  I  shall  notice  is  that  of  Mr.  Whit- 
by — the  well-known  and  deservedly  popular  commentator  on  the 
New  Testament.  In  his  interpretation,  "  the  falling  away"  is  the 
rebellion  of  the  press  against  the  Roman  government  in  the  time 
of  Nero,  which  was  called  an  apostacy  at  the  time,  or  the  falling 
away  from  the  faith  predicted  by  our  Saviour,  (Matt.  xxiv.  11, 
12,)  and  referred  to  by  Paul,  (2  Tim.  i.  15,)  and  the  popish 
notion  itself  is  "  the  Man  of  Sin." 

"  '  4.  In  the  theory  of  Dr.  Hammond — a  name  of  still  greater 
authority  among  churchmen — the  "  falling  away"  was  the  great 
defection  from  the  faith  to  the  heresy  of  the  Gnostics  ;  and  "  the 
Man  of  Sin"  was  Simon  Magus  and  his  followers,  the  leaders  of 
that  sect. 

"  '  5.  Another  theory  still,  which  has  been  chiefly  elaborated 
by  Mr.  Obadiah  Walker,  makes  the  early  Heretics,  Arians,  Nes- 

*  See  "Churchman,"  February  13,  1847. 


218  PETER  SCHLEMIHL. 

torians,  &c.,  "  the  falling  away ;"  and  Mahomet,  who  arose  in 
their  midst,  and  extended  his  conquests  to  nearly  the  same  extent 
as  those  heresies  had  prevailed — "  the  Man  of  Sin." 

"  *  6.  In  the  theory  of  Grotius,  Caius  Caligula,  the  Roman 
Emperor,  who  first  persecuted  the  Christians,  was  "  the  Man  of 
Sin." 

"  '  The  mention  of  all  these  theories  will,  as  I  trust,  accom 
plish  at  the  least  one  object  in  my  favor,  viz.,  they  will  show  that 
as  yet  there  has  been  no  theory  fixed  upon  that  is  satisfactory  to 
all  men,  or  even  generally  so ;  and  therefore,  I  or  any  other  spe 
culator  am  at  liberty  to  adventure  another.  The  ultra-Protestants 
very  anonymously  adopt  the  first-named  theory  above,  and  the 
ultra-papists  as  generally  adopt  the  second.  It  is  a  pity  that  the 
English  Church  and  our  own  should  stand  in  the  arena  between 
these  two  fiercely  contending  sects.  I  will  try  to  extricate  them. 
But  before  I  do  this,  I  must  notice  a  little  more  at  length  another 
theory.  The  reason  of  my  bestowing  upon  it  some  more  atten 
tion  is  the  fact,  that  it  was  adopted  very  early,  and  very  exten 
sively,  by  the  fathers  ;  and  has  been  substantively  revived  by  Mr. 
Maitland,  to  whom  the  church  is  so  much  indebted  for  his  late 
invaluable  work  on  the  Dark  Ages,  and  his  various  other  labors, 
rectifying  the  mistakes  of  Fox,  Robertson,  Mosheim,  Milner, 
Jones,  et  id  genus  omne. 

"  '  This  theory  is  given  substantially  the  same  so  far  as  the 
exegesis  of  the  passage  is  concerned,  by  St.  Cyril,  of  Jerusalem, 
in  his  Catechetical  Lectures,  xv.  9-19  sects. ;  and  by  St.  Chry- 
sostom  in  his  Homily  on  2  Thess.  Hour  xv.  iii.  According  to 
St.  Chrysostom,  "  anti-Christ  himself,"  who  is  "the  Man  of  Sin," 
"  is  the  apostacy  as  being  about  to  destroy  many,  and  make  them 
fall  away."  "  He  is  not  Satan,  but  some  man  who  admits  his 
fully  working  in  him."  "  For  he  will  not  introduce  idolatry,  but 
will  be  a  kind  of  opponent  to  God,  and  he  will  abolish  all  the 
gods,  and  will  order  men  to  worship  him  instead  of  God,  and  he 
will  be  seated  in  the  temple  of  God,  not  that  in  Jerusalem  only, 
but  also  in  the  churches  everywhere."  And  he  thinks  that  the 
Roman  empire  was  that  which  prevented  the  approving  of  this 
illustration  of  wickedness  in  his  day. 

"  '  St.  Cyril  considers  the  heresies  and  schisms  of  his  day  as 
"  the  falling  away,"  or  apostacy,  and  expects  some  individual 
man  as  the  "  anti-Christ,"  or  "  Man  of  Sin,"  "  a  certain  man  who 
is  a  wizard  and  most  expert  in  the  beguiling  craftiness  of  sorce 
ries  and  enchantments."  The  interpretation  of  Cyril  differs  in 
many  points  from  that  of  Chrysostom ;  but  they  agree  in  the 
main  point  for  which  I  have  cited  them,  viz.,  the  making  of  "  the 

* 


219 

man  of  sin"  some  one  individual  man  who  is  to  do  what  St.  Paul 
describes. 

"  '  With  the  details  of  these  interpretations,  as  with  those  of 
Mr.  Maitland's  interpretation,  I  shall  not  at  all  occupy  my  read 
er's  attention.  The  leading  fact  on  account  of  which  I  classify 
them  together,  and  for  which  I  give  them  a  more  extended  notice 
than  the  others  is,  that  they  agree  in  making  "  the  Man  of  Sin" 
to  be  some  one  individual  man  whose  coming  is  placed  by  them 
all — Mr.  Maitland  in  the  nineteenth  century,  as  well  as  by  Cyril 
and  Chrysostom  in  the  fourth — in  a  time  future  to  the  writer. 
They  of  course  know  nothing  of  him,  and  pretend  to  know  no 
thing  except  what  is  derived  from  revelation  ;  whereas,  all  the 
other  theories  refer  to  something  in  history  as  the  fulfillment  of 
the  prophecy.  We  even  compare  the  fact  to  which  they  refer 
with  the  prediction,  and  judge  for  ourselves  whether  they  corre 
spond  at  all  or  not,  and  how  far.  But  with  the  other  theories 
we  pursue  no  such  course  of  investigation*.  We  can  only  ask 
ourselves  whether  the  language  of  the  prophet  (pro  hac  vice  pro 
phet)  seems  to  point  to  a  single  individual,  and  whether  it  is  likely 
that  such  a  one  will  arise. 

"  *  Another  remark  worthy  of  much  consideration  in  this  con 
nection  is,  that  in  general  the  earliest  interpretation  is  the  best ; 
but  with  regard  to  the  interpretation  of  prophecy,  this  rule  of  in 
terpretation  holds  with  much  less  force.  If  all,  or  nearly  all,  the 
early  fathers  have  agreed  in  the  interpretation  of  any  doctrinal, 
ethical,  or  ritual  precept,  there  would  be  an  end  to  all  controversy 
or  doubt  among  all  right-minded  persons.  But  a  prophecy  can 
be  understood  only  by  that  which  it  foretells,  and  consequently 
can  be  explained  only  when  it  is  fulfilled.  He  that  believes  that 
anything  which  has  occurred  is  the  fulfilment  of  the  prophecy, 
is  satisfied  and  professes  to  understand  the  predictions,  and  must 
be  prepared  to  explain  all  of  its  language,  to  answer  all  reasonable 
inquiries.  But  he,  on  the  other  hand,  who  finds  nothing  in  the 
past  or  present  to  satisfy  the  prediction,  is  bound  to  show  that  the 
alleged  fulfilments  fail  to  answer  the  expectations  which  the  pro 
phecy  has  raised.  I  shall  spare  myself  the  trouble  of  producing 
the  reasons  why  I  am  not  satisfied  with  any  of  the  six  first-named 
theories  above,  any  further  than  I  have  already  done.  And  the 
principal  refutation  of  the  other  theory  which  I  shall  attempt,  will 
be  to  point  to  something  past  and  present  which,  in  my  estima 
tion,  fulfils  the  conditions  of  the  prophecy ;  and  if  I  succeed,  I 
of  course  overthrow  all  those  theories  (if  there  be  more  than  one,) 
which  look  forward  to  something  yet  future. 

"  'Now,  it  is  readily  conceded  that  it  was  the  expectation  of 
the  fathers  generally,  that  "  the  Man  of  Sin"  was  to  be  some  in- 


220  PETER  SCHLEMIHL. 

dividual  man,  who  should  literally  do  what  is  there  described — 
(2  Thess.  ii.  3,  13.)  But  if  we  read  the  interpretation  of  any 
one  of  them,  and  compare  it  with  the  history  of  what  has  oc 
curred  since  he  wrote,  we  cannot  fail  to  be  impressed  with  the 
opinion  that  much  of  what  he  expected  as  the  fulfilment  of  the 
prophecy  has  failed  to  occur,  and  this  too  to  such  an  extent  as 
to  take  away  nearly  all  confidence  in  his  interpretation.  The 
prophet  revealed  all  that  it  was  intended  that  he  should  know, 
and  none  but  a  prophet  can  add  anything  to  his  predictions  by 
way  of  explanation  or  interpretation.  The  oral  communications 
and  explanations  of  the  Apostles  handed  down  by  tradition,  could 
be  of  but  little  value  in  the  interpretation  of  a  prophecy.  It  is 
not  likely  that  any  very  minute  description  of  the  event  was  orally 
communicated,  nor  would  it  be  readily  comprehended  if  there  had 
been  ;  and  in  the  second  generation  it  would  have  been  far  more 
likely  to  have  become  corrupted,  than  any  other  kind  of  instruction. 

"  '  With  these  remarks  we  may  dismiss  the  ancient  fathers  for 
the  present.  With  Mr.  Maitland,  much  as  I  regard  his  judgment 
and  authority  in  general,  I  must  say  that  I  think  it  entirely  un 
necessary  to  look  to  the  coming  of  any  one  man  that  can  or  will 
do  all  that  is  ascribed  to  the  Man  of  Sin  by  St.  Paul.  I  could 
never  make  the  passage  look  to  me  like  a  description  or  predic 
tion  of  a  single  man.  The  expression  "man  of  sin"  ('o  ai>9goto$ 
•gqg  'a/ta^r'taj)  has  always  seemed  to  denote  a  race  or  class  of  men, 
or  perhaps  the  disposition  of  both  that  characterizes  them.  Of 
this  more  by  and  by. 

"  'It  would  not  be  much  to  the  purpose,  I  admit,  to  say  that  it 
seems  to  me  hardly  possible  that  any  one  man  can  arise  and  do 
what  is  ascribed  to  "  the  Man  of  Sin"  by  St.  Paul.  It  seems 
rather  to  be  the  work  of  a  race — a  large  number  of  men.  We 
can  hardly  conceive  of  a  man  whose  influence  and  authority 
can  reach  so  far  as  is  there  described.  But  this  will  have  but 
little  weight,  since  our  notions  of  the  possible  and  impossible  are 
but  a  very  poor  rule  to  apply  to  the  interpretations  of  the  Divine 
word.  Still  less  can  I  expect  that  my  notions  on  the  subject  will 
have  much  influence  upon  others,  however  unyielding  they  may 
be  in  their  control  of  my  own  judgment. 


"  *  Nisi  P.  vol.  6,  p.  173. — Ben  Jarchi  will,  I  see,  convict  that 
girl  in  spite  of  her  bright  eyes.  Too  young  to  be  degraded  by  a 
prison. 

"  '  Now,  my  Lord,  I  purpose  the  foregoing  for  an  essay,  No.  1. 
I  wrote  it  last  night  on  my  return  from  court.  And  now,  while 


221 

the  pleadings  are  going  on,  I  will  pen  a  few  loose  thoughts  as  to 
the  further  prosecution  of  this  series.  I  have  said  we  must  not 
look  to  any  one  man,  as  the  type  of  the  Man  of  Sin,  but  to  the 
race.  But  it  may,  perhaps,  be  deemed  by  you  best  to  have  some 
one  designated  as  the  man.  And  there  are  doubtless  great  advan 
tages  to  be  derived  from  this  course.  It  gives  an  air  of  certainty 
and  assured  confidence  which  is  very  imposing.  And  in  the 
matter  of  the  Scarlet  Whore,  I  found  that  was  the  gist  of  the  ques 
tion — who  to  hit  upon,  to  be  so  personated  who  has  held  any  im 
portant  place  in  the  history  of  the  church.  If  we  could  cut 
loose  from  the  Roman  Church,  we  could  find  no  difficulty  in 
whistling  her  down,  by  bringing  forward  Marozia,  or  some  other 
of  the  mistresses  who  have  created  Popes,  as  the  lady  in  ques 
tion  ;  but  this  would  peril  our  claim  to  Apostolical  succession, 
and  so  I  felt  it  must  be  relinquished.  Now,  I  do  not  see  that  we 
shall  find  the  same  difficulty  in  making  out  the  "  Man  of  Sin." 
I  should  find  no  difficulty  to  follow  the  Romanists,  in  making  him 
out  to  be  Martin  Luther ;  but  that  the  fathers  of  our  English 
Church  have  been,  unhappily,  too  intimately  identified  with  him 
in  his  labors  to  uproot  the  supremacy  of  the  Roman  Church  ; 
and  he  has  too  strong  a  hold  on  the  affections  of  our  people, 
as  a  great  reformer  of  a  corrupt  church.  But  it  would  suit  our 
purpose  better  to  bring  forward  that  anarch  of  ruin,  and  man  of 
sin,  OLIVER  CROMWELL,  as  the  true  type  of  dissent.  And  I  think 
it  will  be  no  difficult  task  to  show  that  dissent  is  the  heresy, 
"  the  falling  away,"  predicted  by  Paul  in  2  Thess.  ii.  chap.  3  v. 
But  of  this  you  shall  decide.  Perhaps  it  would  be  safer,  in  the 
state  of  public  opinion,  to  treat  dissent  as  the  Man  of  Sin,  and 
with  this  aspect  of  the  subject,  I  will  proceed  with  my  series  ; 
but  should  you  advise  me  to  personate  Oliver  as  the  representa 
tive  of  this  prophecy,  I  shall  find  no  difficulty  in  doing  so. 

"  '  The  Rabbi  has  sentenced  Abigail  to  prison  for  one  month. 
Hard  case.  My  heart  pities  the  poor  girl — so  young  and  so 
pretty.  Alas  !  what  wretched  laws  are  ours,  which  look  only  to 
the  punishment  of  crime,  not  to  the  reform  of  the  offender.  This 
poor  girl  borrows,  as  she  says,  her  mistress'  dress  to  wear  to  a 
party ;  the  mistress  finds  it  missing,  and  watches  the  girl,  who 
brings  it  back  on  her  person.  This  vanity  is  called  a  theft,  and 
is  punished  as  such,  by  sending  a  young  girl  to  a  sink  of  pollu 
tion,  from  whence  she  comes  back  to  society,  degraded  and  per 
haps  polluted,  body  and  soul.  I  must  write  some  essays  on 
prison  discipline.  The  whole  subject  is  one  of  the  highest  im 
portance,  and  ought  to  command  the  attention  of  better  pens  than 
mine ;  but  who  has  time  to  think  of  the  culprit ;  who  a  heart  to 
dig  down  into  the  miseries  and  tendencies  to  evil  among  the  poor ; 


222  PETER  SCHLEMIHL. 

there  to  apply  the  true  and  efficient  correctives  of  the  offences  of 
criminals. — We  want  another  Howard  to  carry  forward  what 
he  commenced  so  nobly  and  with  such  self-sacrificing  devotion 
to  the  cause  of  God  and  Humanity. 

"  '  The  Rabbi  insists  that  the  wardrobes  of  our  ladies  must  be 
inviolable — and  that  poor  Abigail  is  a  bad  girl  and  must  be  made 
an  example.  I  do  not  believe  it — poor  girl !  Her  mistress  is 
the  culprit,  and  she  the  sinned  against — well  may  St.  Chrysos- 
tom*  say  of  such — "What  is  woman,  but  the  enemy  of  friend 
ship,  an  unavoidable  pain,  a  necessary  calamity,  a  domestic  dan 
ger,  a  delectable  inconvenience,  and  the  nature  of  evil  painted 
over  with  the  color  of  good." 

"  'tl  said  I  believed  that  "  the  falling  awaif  had  occurred 
in  the  Protestant  Christendom  at  and  since  the  Reformation. 
I  believe  that  the  Reformation  was  necessary — and  I  am  fully 
satisfied  with  the  result  of  that  movement,  as  represented  in 
our  Prayer  Book  and  other  standards.  I  am  not  even  one  of 
those  who  regard  the  XXXIX.  Articles  as  being  too  Protestant — 
or  who  think  that  they  are  at  all  reconcilable  with  the  decrees  of 
the  Council  of  Trent. 

"  '  This  I  have  thought  necessary  to  guard  against  misappre 
hension. 

"  '  If  now  we  look  around  us  and  estimate  the  number  of  those 
— descended  from  Christian  ancestors — who  are  living  unbap- 
tized,  or  in  entire  disregard  of  their  baptismal  vows  and  privi 
leges,  I  am  sure  that  we  should  see  enough  to  convince  even  the 
most  obstinate,  that  there  has  occurred  "  a  falling  away"  There 
has  never  been  a  time  in  a  Christian  land  since  its  conversion, 
when  anything  like  so  large  a  proportion  of  the  people  lived  in 
entire  disregard  of  Christianity.  There  has  been  an  immense 
"falling  away" 

"  *  Again,  if  we  look  at  the  Protestant  sects,  we  see  that  every 
one  of  them  have  departed  and  fallen  from  the  standards  of  their 
ancestors. 

"  '  But  in  this  matter  I  am  compelled  not  to  stop  even  here.  I 
am  obliged  to  look  to  see  those,  who,  for  one  reason  or  another, 
have  gone  out  from  and  forsaken  the  communion  of  the  church. 
I  am  aware  of  the  tenderness  of  my  subject,  and  the  delicacy 
with  which  it  needs  to  be  treated. 

"  '  1.  In  the  first  place,  then,  they  have  rejected  the  Ministry. 
When  I  say  the  Ministry,  I  mean,  of  course,  that  which  Christ  ap 
pointed,  and  which  therefore  has  divine  authority.  This  Ministry, 

*  Chrysostom  on  Matthew  XIX. 

f  From  Churchman,  vol.  xiv.,  No.  50;  Feb.  13,  1847. 


223 

like  a  body  corporate,  has  its  laws  of  perpetuation,  one  item  of 
which  is  Ordination  by  the  hands  of  a  Bishop.  When  that  law 
is  violated,  the  perpetuation  or  succession  fails — a  new  ministry 
begins.  Being  a  new  and  another  ministry,  it  does  not  receive 
the  authority  and  emoluments  of  the  old.  It  is  immaterial,  so  far 
as  the  present  point  is  concerned,  whether  the  person  who  com 
mends  the  new  ministry  was  a  member  of  the  old  or  not.  If  the 
conditions  and  laws  of  its  perpetuation  were  violated,  what  was 
produced  was  not  a  part  or  succession  of  the  old  ministry,  but  an 
entirely  new  one. 

"  'Now  I  will  not  go  into  a  consideration  of  the  importance  and 
necessity  of  the  ministry — that  is  the  old  ministry — the  one  which 
Christ  instituted.  But  I  will  merely  refer  to  the  fact,  that  all 
these  sects  have  instituted  a  ministry  of  their  own,  as  proof  that 
a  ministry  is  a  necessary  and  essential  part  of  a  church  organi 
zation.  In  their  own  estimation,  therefore,  the  ministry  is  an  es 
sential  constituent  of  the  church.  But  this  they  have  rejected. 

"  '  2.  But  still  further.  No  one  of  them  made  an  effort  to  retain 
in  their  sect  the  other  constituents  of  the  church.  They  rejected 
the  creed  and  the  worship  which  had  always  been  distinctive  of 
the  Christian  profession. 

"  'I  do  not  mean  to  say  that  they  denied  any  article  of  the 
Apostles'  creed.  But  they  did  not  receive  it  as  their  rule  of  faith. 
This — the  creed  of  the  Catholic  Church — they  rejected,  disbeliev 
ing  some  of  its  articles,  and  pronouncing  others  to  be  of  an  essen 
tial  and  fundamental  character  which  are  not  contained  in  it.  But 
as  a  Rule  of  Faith  they  rejected  it. 

"  '  The  thing  here  spoken  of  is  not  that  they  venture  upon  a 
more  minute  and  definite  statement  of  their  doctrines  ;  for  this 
every  branch  of  the  church  has  done  and  has  a  right  to  do.  But 
these  sects  seem  to  have  paid  no  regard  to  that  which  is  the  creed 
of  the  church.  Of  course  they  believed  some  of  its  articles.  But 
as  a  whole,  as  the  creed  of  Christianity — the  summary  of  the 
Christian  Faith,  as  by  the  consent  of  the  whole  church  before 
them  it  had  been  regarded — they  did  not  receive  it.  In  this  cha 
racter  they  rejected  the  Faith. 

"  '  3.  And  in  nearly  the  same  way  did  they  reject  the  Wor 
ship.  From  the  days  of  the  Apostles,  at  least  down  to  the  time 
of  which  we  are  now  speaking,  there  has  been  in  the  church  such 
a  thing  as  divine  worship,  the  due  celebration  of  which  had  ever 
been  considered  as  the  leading  object  of  all  their  religious  assem 
blings.  The  Apostles  in  their  day  found  a  worship  wherever 
they  found  priest  and  synagogues,  and  instituted  one  where  they 
did  not.  At  the  close  of  their  age,  therefore,  it  was  a  Christian 
worship,  and  had  then,  at  the  least,  been  instituted  or  sanctioned 


224  PETER  SCHLEMIHL. 

by  divine  authority.  It  is  true,  that  each  branch  of  the  church, 
and  it  may  be  that  each  Bishop,  had  the  right  and  authority  to 
modify  this  worship  in  some  of  its  forms.  And  this  right  has 
been  exercised  so  that  the  worship  in  the  different  branches  of 
the  church,  varies  in  many  particulars.  Still  it  remains  substan 
tially  the  same.  Its  essential  character  remains  in  them  all  more 
or  less  pure. 

"  '  But  this  worship  they  rejected  altogether;  both  in  form  and 
principle.  They  made  no  effort  to  retain  the  confessions,  pray 
ers,  and  praises,  which  in  past  ages  had  made  up  this  Worship. 
Nor  did  they  attempt  to  compose  or  arrange  a  new  one  on  the 
same  principle — on  the  principle  of  a  premeditated  and  prepared 
offering  made  to  God  by  the  whole  people,  with  voice  as  well  as 
with  the  heart.  Instead  thereof,  they  appointed  one  man  to  stand 
up  in  their  midst  to  talk — talk  to  God  or  man,  as  the  case  might 
be. 

" 'Now,  by  their  own  confession — in  act  if  not  in  words — 
some  creed  is  necessary.  They  could  not  get  along  without  it. 
And,  as  if  to  show  that  they  did  not  belong  to  the  old  church, 
they  laid  aside  its  creed  as  well  as  its  ministry,  and  made  one  of 
their  own. 

"  '  So  with  the  worship.  Some  worship  is  necessary.  This 
they  readily  admit.  And  no  sooner  had  they  rejected  that  what 
was  in  the  church,  than  they  appointed  their  minister  to  make 
one  for  them  on  every  occasion  of  their  assembling. 

"  '  Now,  by  rejecting,  as  they  did  the  Ministry,  the  Faith  and 
the  Worship,  they  forsook  the  communion,  all  visible  connection 
with  that  body  of  persons  which  had  existed  as  the  church  from 
the  Apostles'  days  down  to  their  own.  These  things  which  they 
rejected  make  up  the  visible  estate  and  conditions  of  Christianity. 
They  are  the  outward  marks  which  distinguish  the  church  from 
the  world — Jews,  Turks,  Infidels,  and  Heretics,  from  Catholic 
Christians.  They  are  not  the  only  works  which  distinguish,  but 
they  are  the  elements  which  make  the  difference  between  Chris 
tians  and  those  that  have  no  interest  in  Christ.  And  then  they 
rejected — openly,  visibly,  departed  from.  This  act  fully  and 
precisely  answers  to  'artocrracua — the  original  for  "falling  away" 
in  the  passage  under  consideration. 

" '  It  is  customary  to  speak  of  those  that  we  have  just  now  been 
considering  as  heretics  or  schismatics,  or  both.  But  I  doubt  if 
either  term  is  strictly  applicable  to  them.  A  heretic,  in  the  eccle 
siastical  sense  is  a  ?mVbeliever,  one  who,  if  his  belief  were  right, 
could  be  an  orthodox  Christian.  A  schismatic  is  a  Christian  who 
is  in  a  state  of  insubordination  to  the  ecclesiastical  authority  of 
the  place  where  he  lives  Elsewhere  he  might  be  a  Catholic. 


"  THE  MAN  OF  SIN."  225 

Thus  he  that  acknowledges  the  Supremacy  of  the  Pope  in  this 
country,  or  in  England,  is  a  schismatic.  But  in  France,  in  Spain, 
in  Austria,  or  in  Rome,  that  fact  would  not  make  him  a  schismatic, 
since  it  is  what  the  ecclesiastic  authority  in  those  places  has  re 
quired.  The  acknowledgment  might  be  wrong,  but  it  would  not 
be  schismatic.  Now  a  church  cannot  be  considered  schismatic 
anywhere,  which  might  not  be  Catholic  somewhere.  Unless,  for 
instance,  the  Presbyterians  are  so  constituted,  and  have  such  spi 
ritual  qualifications  as  that  they  mightexercise  jurisdiction,  and  con 
stitute  a  valid  branch  of  the  church,  in  some  unoccupied  country, 
they  cannot  be  regarded  in  the  light  of  schismatics  here. 

"  '  It  is  evident,  therefore,  that  when  we  have  called  these  sects 
heretics  and  schismatics  in  the  recognized  meaning  of  those  terms, 
we  have  not  fully  described  their  character  or  condition.  It  may 
not  be  worse,  but  is  certainly  different.  I  do  not  say  but  that  they 
may  have  what  they  call  religion.  They  may  be  sincere,  pious, 
and  full  of  zeal.  They  may  have  what  gives  them  a  support  in 
life  and  hope  in  death.  All  this  I  do  not  question  ;  for  it  may  be 
seen  every  clay.  But  yet  I  do  say,  that  they  have  openly  and 
visibly  departed  from  that  which,  in  their  estimation,  as  well  as 
ours,  is  essential  to  the  church,  and  which  constitutes  the  outward 
state  and  condition  of  Christianity.  And  therefore,  I  have  a  right 
to  consider  this  movement  as  A  "falling  away"  if  it  be  not  the 
one  spoken  of  by  the  holy  Apostle  St.  Paul. 


"  '  BLUCHER  STREET,  BABYLON. 

"  '  Nativity  of  B.  V.  M.,  18 — . 

"  '  MY  DEAR  LORD  AND  BISHOP: — I  have,  as  you  see,  continued 
my  series,  making  Dissent  the  true  type  of  the  "  Man  of  Sin" — and 
as  this  day  I  am  at  leisure,  I  will  proceed  with  the  task  you  have 
imposed  upon  me.  It  is  one  I  rejoice  in,  and  shall  be  happy  if 
it  shall  meet  with  your  approval.  I  mean  to  call  things  by  their 
right  names,  and  am  surprised  at  the  course  of  some  of  our  mi 
nistry  in  this  city,  who,  in  my  opinion,  contrary  to  all  true  fidelity 
to  the  church,  speak  of  the  so  styled  clergy  of  dissenters,  as  their 
"  brethren  in  the  ministry  of  the  Gospel," — and  recently  my 
heart  has  been  grieved  by  the  course  of  one  of  our  clergy,  who 
has  accepted  the  use  of  a  "  meeting  house"  for  the  service  of  his 
church — a  house  not  consecrated  by  a  bishop,  and  where,  with 
out  a  chancel  or  an  altar,  he  reads  prayers,  and  delivers  sermons 
in  such  a  place  as  this!  This  conduct  cannot  be  restrained  for 
want  of  a  diocesan.  The  missionary  bishops,  as  they  are  called, 
possess  no  power  to  control  such  men,  who  are  by  their  very  na- 
15 


226  PETER  SCHLEMIHL. 

ture  latituclinarian  in  thought  and  action.  It  is  to  be  hoped  we 
shall  speedily  be  relieved  from  the  "  anomalous"  condition  in 
which  we  find  ourselves  so  unexpectedly  and  unjustly  placed, 
as  to  be  taunted,  (and  indeed  with  too  much  truth,)  that  we  are 
a  church  without  a  bishop!  But  this  is  a  subject  too  painful  to 
be  dwelt  upon.  I  proceed  with  my  closing  paper  on  the  "  Man 
of  Sin." 


'  '  THE  MAN  OF  SIN.* 

" '  We  have  seen  that  some  sects  professing  themselves  Christ 
ians,  have  nevertheless  rejected  and  visibly  departed  from  the 
ministry,  the  faith,  and  the  worship — all  that  constitutes  the  visi 
ble  state  and  condition  of  Christianity,  and  which,  as  the  metes 
and  bounds  of  the  Church,  form  the  dividing  line  between  it  and 
that  which  is  without.  I  now  resume  the  subject  for  the  purpose 
of  considering  the  fourth  verse,  in  relation  to  some  phenomena  that 
have  occurred  mostly  within  the  same  limits,  and  have  character 
ized  mostly  the  same  persons. 

"  'I  will  quote  the  verse  to  begin  with,  that  we  may  have  it  dis 
tinctly  before  our  minds.  "  Who  opposeth  and  exalteth  himself 
above  all  that  is  called  God,  or  that  is  worshiped,  so  that  he  as 
God  sitteth  in  the  temple  of  God,  showing  himself  that  he  is 
God." 

"  '  By  all  that  is  called  God,  we  may  understand — 

"*(!.)  The  primitive  Christians,  to  whom  the  Word  of  God 
came,  (John  x.  35  ;)  and  the  sects  of  which  we  are  speaking,  dis 
regard  the  examples,  principles,  and  persons  of  the  primitive 
Christians.  They  never  commemorate  them  by  Holy  days,  and 
they  regard  it  as  superstitious  and  derogatory  to  the  Scriptures  to 
pay  any  regard  to  early  tradition  or  catholic  consent  and  usage. 

" '  (2.)  Or  it  may  refer  to  those  in  authority  either  in  Church 
or  State,  and  thus  the  prediction  is  fulfilled  in  the  same  persons. 
For  certainly  in  all  cases  they  have  set  at  defiance  the  ecclesias 
tical  authorities  of  the  church,  and  for  the  most  part  they  have 
sprung  into  existence  in  opposition  to  the  civil  authority. 

" '  (3.)  Or,  finally,  it  may  mean  God,  and  then  it  is  the  same  as 
the  last  part  of  the  verse,  and  finds  its  fulfilment  in  the  same 
facts. 

"  '  If  "  is  worshiped"  means  as  in  English,  then  of  course  it  is 
God,  and  is  only  an  addition  to,  or  amplification  of,  what  is  said 
before  and  after  it.  If  it  means,  as  I  think,  all  that  is  held  venera 
ble  and  sacred,  then  it  finds  its  fulfilment  in  the  irreverence  of 

*  "Churchman,"  February  20,  1847,  No.  51,  vol.  xvi. 


*  THE  MAN  OF  SIN."  227 

those  people  in  making  the  church  a  mere  meeting  house,  in  re 
garding  the  sacraments  as  mere  outward  rites,  in  abolishing  all 
Holy  days,  even  Good  Friday  and  Easter,  and  in  converting  the 
Sunday  to  Sabbath. 

"  *  It  is  evident  that  we  are  not  to  look  for  any  professed  athe 
ism  or  opposition  to  God  for  a  fulfilment  of  the  prediction.  "  The 
Man  of  Sin,"  by  such  a  profession,  would  defeat  his  own  object. 
He  would  completely  destroy  his  influence  over  Christians,  and 
then  he  could  bring  them  into  his  wickedness  only  by  force.  But 
it  is  by  deception,  cunning,  craft,  lying  wonders,  and  pretended 
piety  that  he  is  to  succeed.  Therefore  it  must  be  under  the  cloak 
of  a  religious  faith.  And  I  might  ask,  what  would  be  the  most 
favorable  time  for  such  an  undertaking,  if  it  were  not  when  the 
Church  had  become  corrupt,  so  that  a  pretended  zeal  for  the  purity 
of  the  Gospel  would  be  an  effectual  means  of  seducing  many  ?  He 
could  then  easily  brand  all  those  that  would  not  fall  in  with  him 
as  friends  to  the  mass  of  old  error  (Papists  ?  Puseyites  ?),  and  thus 
he  and  the  friends  of  the  old  errors  would  make  terrible  havoc  of 
those  that  M^ould  aim  to  stand  aloof  from  most  of  them,  cleaving 
only  to  the  faith  once  delivered  to  the  saints. 

"  '  I  have  already  stated  that  the  language  in  the  last  part  of 
this  text  does  not  necessarily  imply  that  k'  the  Man  of  Sin"  is  to 
exalt  himself  above  God  and  sit  in  His  Temple  as  God,  by  claim 
ing  the  worship  and  homage  due  to  God  alone.  This  is  what  no 
man  could  claim  with  any  prospect  of  gaining  it.  The  age  for 
deifying  men  and  worshiping  them  as  gods,  has  gone  by.  It  must 
be  in  some  other  way  than  that  "  the  Man  of  Sin"  is  to  "  show 
himself  that  he  is  God."  This,  as  I  understand,  he  is  to  do,  not 
by  claiming  to  be  God — not  by  claiming  to  have  divine  attributes 
and  prerogatives,  but  by  assuming,  in  an  age  when  "  the  falling 
away"  has  prepared  the  people  for  it,  when  ignorance  of  the  truth 
has  prepared  for  the  introduction  of  error,  to  do  what  God  alone 
can  do. 

"  '  I  regard  our  Saviour's  declaration  to  Peter,  "  On  this  rock 
will  I  build  my  Church,"  as  one  of  the  strongest  proofs  of  His 
supreme  divinity  that  could  be  afforded.  If  the  church  is  His, 
and  He  built  it,  either  he  must  be  God,  or  a  sort  of  antagonist  to 
God.  A  church  can  bring  its  members  into  communion  and  fel 
lowship  with  its  founder,  but  can  carry  them  no  higher.  Man 
cannot  make  a  covenant  that  will  be  binding  upon  any  being 
higher  than  himself.  If  then,  Christ  be  truly  God,  very  well. 
His  Church — that  which  He  founds  and  builds — will  bring  us  into 
covenant  and  communion  with  God.  But  otherwise,  if  He  be 
not  truly  God,  then,  in  founding  His  Church  by  leading  us  to 
communion  with  himself,  He  is  leading  us  away  from  God. 


228  PETER  SCHLEMIHL. 

Hence,  whoever  founds  or  builds  a  church,  sits  in  the  Temple  of 
God  as  God,  and  becomes  the  God  of  those  who  belong  to  that 
church.  Of  course,  I  am  speaking  of  founding  new  churches, 
and  not  of  establishing  new  branches  of  the  old  one. 

"  '  Now  each  of  these  Protestant  sects  has  done  that  which,  as 
we  have  remarked,  proves  that  Christ  is  either  God  or  one  that 
"  opposeth  and  exalteth  himself  above"  God.  He  founded  a 
church,  thus  showing  Himself  that  He  is  God,  or  if  He  be  not, 
He  has  deluded  to  their  everlasting  ruin  those  who  put  their  trust 
in  Him  or  belong  to  His  Church. 

"  *  It  is,  indeed,  true  with  regard  to  the  Presbyterians,  that  at 
first  they  held  to  the  necessity  of  the  Apostolic  succession,  and 
of  retaining  what  they  considered  the  constituent  elements  of  a 
church,  so  as  that  theirs  should  not  be  a  new  church,  but  only  a 
reformed  branch  of  the  old.  But  this  was  soon  found  to  be  like 
cutting  the  branch  between  one's  self  and  the  tree.  And  though 
they  retain  much  of  the  old  form,  yet  they  have  very  extensively 
adopted  the  congregational  principle.  Most  of  the  other  sects 
have  started  on  that  principle.  Or  if  they  have  not,  it  makes  no 
material  difference  in  relation  to  the  present  objection.  They  all 
confess  that  they  have  founded  a  new  church,  a  new  communion. 
They  think  that  it  is  like  the  Primitive  Church.  But  there  is  no 
pretence  that  theirs  is  the  same.  Similarity,  and  not  identity,  is 
all  that  they  claim.  They  acknowledge  the  fact  that  the  church 
to  which  they  belong  was  founded,  as  a  new  and  distinct  religious 
community,  by  this  and  that  man,  or  a  body  of  men,  since  the 
Reformation. 

"  '  Now  we  will  not,  and  we  need  not,  go  into  the  question  of 
their  similarity  to  the  Primitive  Church.  That  may  be  granted, 
or  conceded  to  be  of  no  importance,  and  yet  the  substance  of  the 
whole  matter  remains  undisposed  of.  The  complaint  is  not  that 
they  have  founded  a  church  unlike  the  Apostolic,  but  it  goes  to 
the  substance  matter,  that  they  have  founded  a  church  at  all.  If, 
for  instance,  the  Wesleys,  Asbury,  Coke,  &c.,  had  the  right  and 
power  to  found  a  church  like  the  Apostolic,  they  had  the  right  to 
found  one  unlike  it.  They  were  bound  by  no  instructions  that 
were  given  them  by  God,  for  none  were  given.  The  Bible  fur 
nished  them  none,  and  if  they  had  any  from  another  source,  then 
there  was  a  new  Revelation,  a  new  covenant,  and  they  should 
have  given  us  new  Scriptures.  But  without  authority  from  God, 
without  instructions  for  that  purpose  from  Him,  they  found  a 
church  of  their  own. 

"  *  What  we  have  said  of  the  Methodists,  is  true  of  all  the  sects 
that  are  without  the  ministry  of  the  Apostolic  succession.  They 
are  human  churches,  founded  in  fact  and  confessedly  by  men. 


"  THE  MAN  OF  SIN."  229 

And  it  makes  no  difference,  so  far  as  this  immediate  point  is  con 
cerned,  whether  these  founders  of  the  new  churches  were  mere 
laymen,  or  presbyters,  or  even  bishops,  in  the  old  Apostolic 
Church.  For  their  Holy  Orders  gave  them  no  authority  to  build 
a  new  Church,  but  only  to  continue  and  administer  the  old  one 
according  to  Christ's  institution. 

"  '  In  these  days  of  jealousy  and  excitement,  it  is  necessary  that 
people  should  be  cautious  what  they  say  and  how  they  guard 
their  opinions  from  misapprehension,  when  they  are  speaking  on 
this  subject.  This  must  be  my  apology  for  being  a  little  more 
prolix  upon  this  point  than  there  would  otherwise  be  any  neces 
sity  for.  I  remark,  therefore,  that  of  course  I  am  not  saying  but 
what  the  members,  whether  lay  or  clerical,  of  an  existing  church, 
as  that  of  England,  for  instance,  may  go  into  a  country  where 
there  is  no  church,  as  they  came  here  in  A.  D.  1607,  and  lay  the 
foundation  of  a  church  which  should  be  in  one  sense  new,  that  is, 
a  new  branch  of  the  ONE  church  retaining  as  it  does  the  ministry, 
the  faith,  and  the  worship,  and  being  in  communion  and  friendly 
intercourse  with  the  parent  branch  from  which  it  sprung.  Although 
it  is  in  one  sense  a  new  church,  yet  it  is  not  a  new  communion, 
but  only  an  enlargement  and  extension  of  the  old. 

"  '  Nor  can  the  action  of  the  English  Bishops  in  the  Reforma 
tion  be  called  the  founding  a  new  church,  even  though  the  churches 
in  the  Romish  Obedience  refused  communion  with  the  English 
after  the  Reformation.  Their  act  founded  no  new  society  or 
church  ;  it  simply  reformed  the  old  one.  * 

"  *  But  with  all  these  sects,  it  is  far  otherwise.  For  leaving  out 
of  view,  for  the  present,  the  question  as  to  what  the  polity  of  the 
Primitive  Church  may  have  been,  it  is  a  conceded  fact  that  no  one 
of  these  sects  is  the  Primitive  Church  prolonged  by  a  visible  and 
traceable  existence  into  the  modern  sect.  The  highest  thing 
which  they  claim  is  likeness  or  similarity.  They  do  not  even 
lay  a  claim  to  identity.  They  all  admit  the  fact  that  they  are  of 
modern  origin.  They  had  their  origin,  foundation,  and  com 
mencement  in  these  latest  centuries. 

"  '  It  would  be  amusing,  if  the  subject  were  not  too  serious,  to 
see  the  naivete  with  which  they  confess  this  fact.  Says  Dr.  Mil 
ler,  "  This  denomination  (the  Presbyterian)  is  to  be  considered 
as  the  offspring  of  the  Church  of  Scotland."  "  The  celebrated 
Andrew  Melville,  on  his  arrival  in  Scotland  from  Geneva,  in  A. 
D.  1574,  was  enabled  to  effect,  in  1592,  the  introduction  of  that 
Presbyterian  polity  which  he  found  established  in  Geneva,  and 
which  has  finally  been  fixed  in  Scotland."  So  that  "  the  Church 
of  Scotland,"  of  Dr.  Miller,  is  the  offspring  of  that  polity  which 
was  instituted  by  Calvin,  Farel,  and  Viret,  and  founded  in  Ge- 


230  PETER  SCHLEMIHL. 

neva,  about  A.  D.  1540,  and  here  is  its  origin.  "Methodists. 
This  large  and  respectable  denomination  was  founded  (sic.)  in 
the  year  1729,  by  one  Mr.  Morgan  and  Mr.  John  Wesley." 
"  Baptists.  It  has  been  asserted  that  the  Baptists  originated  in 
Germany,  about  the  year  1522,  at  the  beginning  of  the  Reforma 
tion.  It  is  true  that  no  denomination  of  Protestants  can  trace 
the  origin  of  its  present  name  further  back  than  about  the  time 
of  the  Reformation,  and  most  of  them  (the  denominations)  have 
originated  (sic.)  since  that  period."  Con gre Rationalists.  "  Mr. 
Robinson  has  been  rightly  deemed  the  founder  of  the  sect,  and 
of  the  celebrated  Church  at  Leyden,  in  Holland,  of  which  he 
was  pastor." 

"  '  I  might  carry  these  quotations  to  almost  any  length.  But 
that  would  take  up  space  and  time  unnecessarily.  *  *  *  * 

"  '  Thus  we  have  not  only  the  confession  of  the  fact  that  men 
in  these  latter  ages,  "  as  God,  have  set  in  the  Temple  of  God, 
showing  themselves  that  they  are  God,"  by  doing  what  did  the 
most  unequivocally  prove  our  Saviour's  Godhead,  forming  new, 
distinct  churches,  making  covenants  with  men,  instituting  a  min 
istry,  &c.,  all  of  the  most  sacred  acts  of  our  blessed  Saviour,  who 
was  both  God  and  man ;  but  we  have  also  all  this  freely  avowed 
and  justified  as  the  recognized  principles  of  a  large  denomination, 
whose  principles  are  becoming  extensively  adopted  in  the  other 
sects,  and  are  the  popular  views  upon  the  subject  in  this  our 
country  and  age.  Thus  has  man  taken  the  whole  matter  into  his 
own  hands.  He  can  found  churches,  make  covenants,  institute 
priesthoods,  and  this  he  claims  a  right  to  do,  even  though  God 
has  for  once  and  for  all  built  His  church,  established  and  ratified 
His  covenant,  and  ordained  His  ministry  to  be  with  them  always 
even  unto  the  end  of  the  world.  NOW,  IF  THIS  BE  NOT 
TO  OPPOSE  AND  EXALT  ITSELF,  AND  AS  GOD  TO 
SIT  IN  THE  TEMPLE  OF  GOD,  SHOWING  ITSELF 
THAT  IT  IS  GOD,  IT  WOULD  BE  DIFFICULT  TO  SAY 
WHAT  IS. 

"  '  The  reader  has  now  before  him  the  proof,  or  rather  an  indi 
cation  of  what  I  consider  the  proof,  of  the  correctness  of  my  view 
of  the  prediction  contained  in  2  Thes.  ii.  1-11.  The  proof  is 
the  correspondence  between  the  facts  and  the  prediction.  To  my 
mind  it  is  satisfactory.  The  reader  must  judge  for  himself. 

"  '  Should  you  deem  it  desirable  to  give  prominence  to  Oliver 
Cromwell,  instead  of  Dissent,  as  the  "Man  of  Sin,"  I  have  found 
a  citation  from  St.  Cyril  of  Jerusalem,  which  is  quite  a-propos. 
In  his  exegesis  on  the  Vision  of  Daniel,  speaking  of  the  "  little 
horn,"  which  ultra-Protestants  have  applied  to  the  papacy,  he  says 


THE  BISHOP  OF  GREEN  MOUNTAINS'  SERMON.  331 

— "  A  blasphemer  is  he,  and  an  outrageous  person,  not  inheriting 
his  kingdom  from  his  fathers,  but  usurping  power  by  means  of 
sorcery,"  but  perhaps  it  is  best  as  draughted.  As  it  is,  I  submit 
these  views,  in  fullest  confidence,  to  your  superior  learning  and 
judgment. 

******* 

"  *  I  have  recently  received  a  kind  letter  from  the  Right  Reve 
rend  John,  Bishop  of  Green  Mountains,  who  has  been  pleased 
to  ask  my  advice  as  to  the  text  he  shall  select  in  preaching  the 
opening  sermon  of  the  General  Convention,  in  this  city,  with 
the  brief  of  his  intended  course  of  remarks  on  that  occasion.  I 
cannot  but  be  proud  of  the  distinguished  honor  conferred  upon 
so  very  humble  a  member  of  the  laity  as  myself.  He  has  pro 
posed  to  select  the  21st  chapter  of  Acts,  24th  and  25th  verses,  for 
his  text,*  and  to  show  from  the  example  of  that  Apostolic  Coun 
cil,  that  the  Fathers  of  our  Anglican  Church  have  their  sanction 
and  example,  for  constructing  the  Rubric  and  Articles  of  The 
Church,  so  as  to  embrace  within  its  bosom,  all  the  shades  of  opin 
ion,  "  from  the  pious  Romanist  to  the  zealous  Calvinist."  ' 
******* 

"  *  Gentleman  in  Black  vs.  Schlemihl — vagabond — Bang-bang 
for  dft. — very  strange  case — prisoner  without  a  shadow. — Instance 
of  demoniacal  possession.' 

******* 

" '  I  doubt,  my  Lord  Bishop,  the  propriety  of  this  course  of 
thought — and  fear  it  grants  too  much,  and  goes  to  show  there  was 
never  an  infallible  council  on  earth.  Paul  took  the  advice,  con 
trary  to  his  own  convictions,  having  himself  denounced  the  ritual 
of  the  Temple  as  "weak  and  beggarly  *  *  *  a  yoke  from  which 
Christ  had  set  his  church  free" — and  the  Holy  Spirit  seems  to 
have  made  this  solitary  mis-step  of  the  great  Apostle,  the  begin 
ning  of  a  course  of  sufferings  which  only  ceased  with  his  mar 
tyrdom. — Then,  too,  there  is  another  objection  which  occurs  to 
me — Where  is  the  seamless  coat  of  Christ  all  this  while,  if  every 
variety  of  opinion  is  to  be  tolerated  ?  That  favorite  and  ancient 
figure  of  the  church  fathers  loses  all  its  significancy,  and  instead 
of  it,  we  substitute  Joseph's  coat  of  many  colors. 

"  '  If  this  interpretation  can  be  sustained,  and  such  is  the  tes- 
selated  pavement  upon  which  the  Altar  of  our  faith  stands,!  think 
it  will  be  difficult  for  the  learned  Bishop  hereafter  to  discover  any 
"novelties  to  disturb  our  peace"  as  a  church,  since,  by  his  own 
showing,  the  Articles  and  Rubric  cover  all  the  varieties  of  human 

*  The  worthy  Bishop  did  indeed  take  this  text,  and  adopt  these  views, 
doubtless  for  want  of  the  criticism  of  the  very  excellent  Judge  Tomkins. 


232  PETER  SCHLEMIHL. 

opinion,  from  the  purest  faith  to  the  wildest  forms  of  fanaticism  ; 
and  that  they  serve  only  to  create  a  bond  of  union,  not  of  faith,  but 

of  forms.     And  is  this  the  "  One  Faith"  of  the  Church  of  Christ! 

******* 

"  '  This  Bang-bang  is  a  scandalous  fellow — he  deserves  to  have 

his  tongue  slit. 

******* 

"  'I  fear,  my  dear  lord,  that  it  will  be  deemed  rather  presump 
tuous  in  me,  to  hint  these  objections  to  a  bishop,  but  I  very  much 
regret  he  has  taken  the  view  of  the  subject  he  has.  And  I  think 
of  suggesting  to  him,  as  more  fitting  to  the  scope  of  his  remarks, 
the  vision  of  St.  Peter,  contained  in  Acts  x.,  llth  to  15th  verses, 
in  which  he  saw  a  sheet  let  down  from  Heaven,  "  Wherein  were 
all  manner  of  four  footed  beasts  of  the  earth,  and  wild  beasts, 
and  creeping  things,  and  fowls  of  the  air"  &c.  This  might 
be,  at  least,  deemed  apposite,  if  not  appropriate.  I  shall  be  glad 
of  your  advice  as  to  the  reply  fitting  to  be  returned  to  my  Lord 

Bishop  of  Green  Mountains. 

******* 

"  'There  is  one  subject  which  has  long  dwelt  upon  my  mind 
with  considerable  force,  and  which  I  beg  to  submit  to  you,  for 
your  serious  consideration.  In  our  labors  to  revive  the  sanctity 
of  the  ancient  church,  we  have,  so  far  as  I  am  aware,  had  no  re 
ference  to  the  salutary  effects  and  quickening  graces,  sought  and 
attained  in  the  faithful,  by  the  discipline  of  FLAGELLATION. 

"  '  This  thought  has  often  recurred  to  me  in  reading  the  lives  of 
those  eminent  pietists,  recorded  in  the  history  of  the  church,  as 
well  as  the  lives  of  saints.  If  there  be  anything  to  be  relied  upon, 
and  on  which  we  can  base  our  hopes  for  The  Church,  it  must  rest 
on  the  congruity  between  the  means  used,  and  the  ends  to  be  at 
tained,  viz.,  the  sanctification  of  the  body.  In  order  to  this,  fast 
ing  and  prayer  have  ever  held  a  high  rank  among  saints.  To 
attain  a  higher  degree  of  sanctity,  the  celebat  was  enforced  as  a 
rule  of  discipline  on  the  priesthood  :  not  that  it  originated  in  The 
Roman  Church,  as  ignorant  people  suppose,  for,  as  the  learned 
Gale  justly  observes,  in  his  "  Court  of  the  Gentiles,"  vol.  ii.  p.  212, 
'*'  the  celebat  of  priests  was  in  such  high  esteem  among  the  pagans, 
that  ^Eneas,  in  Virgil,  (lib.  6,)  in  passing  the  Elysian  fields,  saw 
no  other  priests  there."  It  was  only  recovering,  therefore,  one 
of  those  laws  of  our  being,  which  had  been  discovered  and  adopt 
ed  by  the  ancient  fathers  of  Greece  and  Rome,  as  fitting  to  the 
highest  purity  of  our  nature,  to  abstain  from  marriage.  I  say, 
then,  there  are  certain  customs  true  in  themselves,  and  which, 
when  followed  with  zeal,  do,  by  the  very  condition  of  our  being, 
place  the  disciple  in  that  condition  of  body  which  fits  it  to  re- 


OF  THE  DISCIPLINE  OF  FLAGELLATION.  233 

ceive  the  grace  of  God.  And  I  presume,  my  Lord  Bishop,  the 
usages  of  the  church  are  based  upon  these  proclivities  of  our 
inner  man.  We  are  not  merely  creatures  of  mind,  but  much 
more  truly,  the  slaves  of  sense.  It  is,  therefore,  that  the  Church 
seeks  to  bring  the  senses  into  bondage  to  the  Church  and  her 
clergy. 

"  '  When  I  look  back  for  a  few  years,  and  see  the  changes 
which  have  been  wrought,  I  am  greatly  encouraged  in  the  hope 
of  yet  living  to  see  the  customs  of  the  church  restored  to  their 
"  pristine  purity  as  existing  in  the  fourth  century" — that  halcyon 
day  of  her  glory !  Let  us  see  what  has  been  already  accom 
plished.  The  bowing  of  the  head  at  the  name  of  Jesus  in  the 
creed,  (now  almost  universally  adopted,)  fifteen  years  since  was 
unknown.  The  Gothic  style  of  our  church  edifices,  and  the 
erection  of  the  sacred  symbol  of  the  cross,  now  seen  over  our 
altars  and  surmounting  the  spires — the  recent  adoption  of  matins 
and  vespers — the  observance  of  saints'  days,  Ember  days,  and 
festivals — the  changes  of  our  forms  in  the  chanting  of  the  psalms, 
which  were  formerly  read — the  revival  of  the  costume  of  our 
clergy,  assimilating  it  to  that  worn  by  the  Catholic  clergy,  are 
all  indicative  of  the  restoration  of  the  religion  of  a  purer  age  of 
the  church;  while  oratories  have  become  common  in  the  homes 
of  our  laity.  These  are  tokens  of  a  revival  of  early  days :  Of 
those  practices  and  opinions  which  prevailed  long  before  the  mis 
called  reformation,  under  the  direction  of  Luther  and  Calvin,  the 
great  hierophants  of  dissent — not  to  speak  of  the  prominence 
given  to  the  doctrines  of  the  present  day;  of  the  Apostolical  suc 
cession,  of  baptismal  regeneration,  and  above  all,  the  church  as 
the  conduit  by  which  alone  saving  grace  is  conferred,  and  out 
of  which  there  is  no  salvation. 

'* '  But  while  we  have  reason  to  rejoice  in  all  that  has  been 
attained,  we  yet  have  but  begun  the  work,  and  there  is  still  unat- 
tempted,  great  and  salutary  means  to  attain  a  transcendental  state 
of  piety,  for  which  we  have  the  highest  authority  in  the  examples 
of  the  saints,  and  the  testimony  of  the  fathers  and  confessors  of 
the  early  church.  Among  these,  if  not  the  chief est  of  all  these, 
is  the  discipline  of  flagellation!  I  need  not  remind  you  how 
large  a  place  this  practice  has  had,  and  still  has,  in  the  Roman 
Church.  Its  uses  have  recently  been  popularized  by  the  reprint 
of  Father  Ripa's  "  Residence  in  China."* 

"  *  Now,  my  dear  Lord  Bishop,  I  am  sure  such  is  the  docility 

*  The  excellent  and  pious  Father  Ripa  once  composed  a  deadly  feud, 
through  the  sedative  influence  of  religious  castigation.  when  even  the  exhorta 
tions  of  several  ecclesiastics,  and  the  authority  of  Cardinal  Barberiui,  had 
failed.  It  existed  in  a  family  of  an  old  man  and  his  six  sons,  who  had  for 


234  PETER  SCHLEMIHL. 

of  the  noviciates  of  our  theological  schools,  and  of  our  laity, 
as  .evinced  by  the  adoption  of  all  the  changes  in  doctrines  and 
forms,  (already  recapitulated,)  that  this  discipline  has  only  to  be 
presented  to  their  minds  by  some  one  whose  example  and  faith 
they  will,  without  faltering  or  hesitancy,  follow,  to  revive  this 
efficacious  penance  in  all  its  salutary  rigor.  And  from  my  own 
experience  (of  which  I  will  presently  speak),  I  can  think  of  no 
thing  so  well  calculated  to  bring  the  body  into  due  subjection  as 
frequent  and  daily  castigation.  To  your  lordship  do  I  appeal 
on  behalf  of  this  ancient  rule  of  the  church,  and  beseech  you  to 
adopt  this  discipline,  and  to  commend  it  in  your  next  charge  to 
your  diocese.  They  will  not  fail  to  follow  the  example,  when 
set  for  their  imitation  by  one  so  highly  distinguished  as  yourself. 
I  know  of  nothing  so  well  calculated  to  awaken  the  careless,  and 
to  make  a  lively  impression  upon  both  clergy  and  laity.  It  is 
easy,  my  lord,  to  erect  a  cross  on  the  top  of  one's  house, Jbut  to 
wear  the  cross  on  the  bare  back,  ah !  that  is  the  truest  of  all  tests 
of  discipleship.  Cardinal  and  Saint  Damiano,  with  whose  writ 
ings  you  are  familiar,  who  was  himself  an  eye-witness  to  the  ex 
traordinary  discipline  of  St.  Dominic,  the  Cuirassier,  of  which 
he  is  the  historian,  thus  urges  home  on  the  consciences  of  those 
who  loved  the  flesh  better  than  holiness.  He  says,  speaking  of 
the  day  of  judgment,  "Then  shall  the  sun  lose  its  lustre,  the 
moon  be  involved  in  darkness ;  the  stars  shall  fall  from  their 
places,  and  all  the  elements  be  confounded  together.  Of  what 
service,  then,  will  be  to  you  those  clothes  and  garments  with 
which  you  are  now  covered,  and  which  you  refuse  to  lay  aside, 
to  submit  to  this  exercise  of  penitence."  And  more  than  this, 
there  exist  several  well  authenticated  facts,  which  prove  that 
the  blessed  Virgin  was  frequently  propitiated  by  this  practice. 
Though  these  facts  would  be  of  as  little  worth  as  pearls  cast  be 
fore  swine,  to  the  great  mass  of  our  population ;  yet,  my  lord, 
you  will  give  them  the  consideration  they  demand  of  all  true 
churchmen.  I  do  therefore  renew  my  earnest  request,  that  your 
lordship  will  give  this  striking  test  of  your  devotion  to  the  doc 
trines  and  observances  of  our  Holy  Mother  Church. 

several  years  sought  the  life  of  a  relative  who  had  murdered  his  seventh 
son. 

The  worthy  father,  while  preparing  for  his  missionary  labors  in  China,  at 
Rome,  was  sent  to  the  place  where  this  family  resided,  to  preach  during 
Lent.  After  one  of  his  sermons,  about  dusk,  having  finished  his  discourse, 
he  dismissed  the  women,  telling  the  men  to  stay  and  do  penance.  The  doors 
being  locked,  Father  Ripa  "  urged  the  duty  of  self-castigation"  with  such  power, 
that  there  was  in  the  hearts  of  these  fierce  men,  no  longer  any  resistance  to 
the  mode  adopted  for  the  pacification  and  reconciliation  of  the  parties. — See 
Ripa's  Court  of  Pekin,  p.  21. 


OBSERVATIONS  OF  THE  GENTLEMAN  IN  BLACK.  235 

"  *  I  speak  not  only  from  my  own  experience  of  the  delights 
which  follow  this  salutary  discipline,  but  I  have  the  testimony  of 
Abelard,  in  a  letter  to  Eloisa,  in  which  he  says,  "  Verbera  quan- 
doque  dabam,  non  furore ;  gratia,  non  ira.'  ' 

The  Gentleman  in  Black  now  folded  up  the  paper  and  returned 
it  to  his  pocket. 

"  I  am  sure,"  said  Mrs.  Smith,  with  a  gay  smile,  "  the  Right 
Rev.  Bishop  of  Peach  Orchard  must  be  very  much  obliged  to  the 
judge,  for  the  suggestion  of  wearing  his  cross  on  his  back,  in 
stead  of  on  the  top  of  his  house." 

The  Gentleman  in  Black  smiled  in  his  turn,  and  looking  very 
sweetly  upon  the  lady,  said,  "  The  sign  of  the  cross  is,  I  am  cer 
tain,  more  easily  placed  on  the  king  post  of  his  roof  than — " 

Mrs.  Smith  held  up  her  finger,  playfully,  lest  the  Gentleman 
in  Black  should  transgress  the  rules  of  propriety. 

He^laughing,  said,  "No,  dear  madam,  I  really  had  no  design 
but  to  respond  to  your  remark,  and  to  say,  how  much  easier  it  is 
to  erect,  or  wear  a  beautiful  symbol  of  the  cross,  than  to  as 
sume  the  cross  of  which  Christ  speaks,  as  the  daily  duty  of  all 
who  would  be  his  true  disciples." 

The  notes  of  Judge  Tomkins  terminate  here.  A  part  only 
of  the  Judge's  series,  as  they  appeared  in  "  The  Churchman," 
have  been  copied,  at  the  hazard  of  being  wearisome  to  my  readers, 
that  they  may  see  for  themselves  the  position  assumed  by  the 
"Oxford  men"  of  our  country  toward  "  Dissenters."  And 
though  the  "  Man  of  Sin"  may  be  deemed  by  them  as  fairly 
made  out  to  be  "Dissent"  yet  as  Mr.  Justice  Tomkins  has 
well  said,  while  the  "Scarlet  Whore"  remains  the  type  of  the 
Roman  Church,  all  this  is  but  "  love's  labor  lost."-  We  do 
hope  the  Bishop  of  Peach  Orchard  will  set  his  wits  to  work  to 
release  "  the  Virgin  Anglican  Church"  from  the  foul  spot  on  her 
fair  reputation  of  being  "  sister"  to  such  a  vile  woman.  And,  too, 
we  assure  the  Bishop  of  Green  Mountains,  whose  ingenious  dis 
course  on  the  Mosaical  character  of  the  Rubric  and  Articles  of 
the  Church,  has  won  for  him  the  admiration  of  the  world,  and 
shows  his  astuteness  in  managing  all  vexed  questions,  that,  though 
it  would  be  a  "  novelty,"  to  be  sure,  yet  one  which  so  far  from 
"  disturbing  the  peace"  of  the  church,  would  quiet  many  anx 
ious  hearts,  if  he  would  show  us  what  we  are  to  believe.  The 
House  of  Bishops  should  either  divorce  the  "Vestal  Church" 
from  the  Church  of  Rome,  or  show  the  received  opinion  to  be 
erroneous,  and  by  a  solemn  act  tell  us  what  is  the  "  Interpreta 
tion  of  the  Church"  on  this  subject. 

PETER  SCHLEMIHL. 


236  PETER  SCHLEMIHL. 


CHAPTER  XL 

Confessions  of  Mrs.  Smith — Her  religious  impressions  as  a  child — Becomes  a 
member  of  the  congregation  under  the  care  of  Rev.  Verdant  Green — Cha 
racter  of  his  ministry — Effect  of  baptismal  regeneration  upon  Mrs.  Smith — 
Mrs.  Smith  is  re-baptized — Refuses  to  be  confirmed  ;  her  reasons — Mrs. 
Smith  relates  her  conversation  with  her  Rector  as  to  the  virtues  of  confirma 
tion,  and  the  descent  of  the  apostolical  powers — Cites  St.  Clement  on  the 
effect  of  wearing  false  hair  ;  her  conclusions  thereon — Unsettles  the  faith  of 
"  the  Church" — The  Gentleman  in  Black's  remarks  thereon — Removes  her 
seat  to  the  church  of  Liberal  Christians — Of  the  sermons  she  heard — Effect 
upon  her  mind — The  miracles,  how  explained — Makes  the  acquaintance  of 
Mrs.  Percy  and  her  daughter  Helen — Joins  the  circle  of  Free  Inquirers — 
Of  the  teachings  of  transcendental  philosophy — Of  the  "  Vestiges  of  Creation" 
• — Character  of  Helen — Visit  of  the  lady  from  Bostonia — Of  the  new  school 
divinity — Of  Professor  Norton — Prof.  Ware's  letter — Remarks  of  Mrs. 
Percy — Of  the  "  Mutual  Admiration  Society"  of  Bostonia — How  it  works — 
Mrs.  Elgin's  opinion  on  new  school  divines — Mrs.  Percy's  opinion  of  Doct. 
Charming — His  opinion  on  Unitarianism  at  the  close  of  his  life — Difficulties 
in  the  way  of  the  circle  of  Free  Inquirers — They  hold  a  fast — Read  their 
"intuitions"  as  to  God — They  are  surprised  by  the  entrance  of  an  old 
grandmother — Their  conversation — Helen  Percy's  death  bed — The  scene 
in  her  chamber  the  night  before  her  death,  contrasted  by  the  dying  hour  of 
the  cousin  of  Mrs.  Smith,  the  widow  of  a  clergyman — Mrs.  Smith's  present 
state  of  rnind. 

THE  Gentleman  in  Black  now  claimed  of  Mrs.  Smith  the  ful 
filment  of  her  promise  to  give  him  some  account  of  her  own  spirit 
ual  life. 

"  I  have,  I  trust,  some  claims  on  you,  and  I  need  to  recruit  my 
self  a  little,  before  showing  you  some  more  scenes  in  the  Mirror, 
which,  I  am  assured,  will  be  interesting  to  you." 

"I  am,  indeed,"  replied  Mrs.  Smith,  with  the  sweetest  tones 
and  amenity  of  manner,  "greatly  indebted  to  you  for  all  you 
have  done  to  while  away  my  wakefulness,  and  I  cheerfully  com 
ply  with  your  request  to  give  you  not  my  experience,  but  my 
Confessions." 

CONFESSIONS  OF  MRS.   SMITH. 

"You  have  expressed  yourself  surprised  at  my  skepticism! 


MRS.  SMITH'S  CHILDHOOD.  237 

and  I  can  readily  imagine  how  strange  it  is  for  the  child  of  pious 
parents,  to  be  found  drifted  out  into  the  ocean  of  doubt,  without 
a  single  star  in  the  horizon  to  steer  by,  and  on  all  sides  surrounded 
by  the  fog  banks  of  philosophy,  '  falsely  so  called,'  as  Paul  has 
well  said.  And  I  will  now  endeavor  to  give  you  a  history  of 
my  mental  progress. 

"  In  my  childhood  I  was  early  taught  the  being  of  God.  My 
earliest  recollections  carry  me  back  to  the  hours  when  I  was 
taught  to  fold  my  little  hands,  and  to  repeat  the  Lord's  Prayer ; 
and  before  closing  my  eyes  to  sleep,  to  say  those  magical  words, 
which  seemed  to  me  to  contain  some  potent  charm — 

'Now  I  lay  me  down  to  sleep, 
I  pray  the  Lord  my  soul  to  keep  ; 
And  if  I  die  before  I  wake, 
I  pray  thee,  Lord,  my  soul  to  take.' 

And  when  the  force  of  language  began  to  be  realized,  I  wondered 
what  '  Now-I-lay-me,'  could  mean.  The  words  were  all  run  to 
gether  in  my  mind,  and  I  never  separated  them,  till  years  after 
wards. 

"  I  was  taken  to  meeting  on  the  Lord's  day  by  my  parents, 
from  my  earliest  days  ;  and  there  I  heard  words  of  fearful  im 
port,  as  the  *  last  day,'  the  '  torments  of  hell-fire,'  '  the  worm  that 
never  dies,'  *  flames  never  to  be  quenched,'  *  the  happiness  of  the 
righteous,'  and  '  the  misery  of  the  wicked  ;'  and  as  my  mind  grew 
more  and  more  enlarged,  I  wished  I  had  never  been  born — or  that 
I  was  good,  and  not  the  wicked  child  1  felt  myself  to  be.  I 
looked  at  our  pious  minister  with  envy,  to  think  how  certain  it 
was  that  he  would  go  to  heaven,  and  how  certainly  I  should  go 
to  hell.  And  too,  there  were  the  deacons,  sitting  below  the  pul 
pit,  whose  duty  it  was  to  set  the  half  hour  glass,  and  to  keep  it 
going  during  the  sermon  ;  they,  too,  seemed  to  me  men  just  within 
the  verge  of  heaven  : — but  as  for  me,  I  was  constantly  doing 
something  very  wicked. 

"  In  our  parish  meeting  house,  the  pews  were  square,  and 
adorned  by  an  open  railing,  made  of  little  pieces  of  wood,  grace 
fully  turned,  which  formed  the  tops  of  the  pews.  These  rungs 
of  wood  had  the  faculty  of  creaking,  when  twisted  round.  Now 
it  seemed  to  be  the  very  instigation  of  Satan  to  set  me  to  turning 
those  rungs  which  would  squeak  loudest.  And  though  often  re 
proved  at  home,  and  rapped  on  the  head  with  my  father's  knuckles, 
or  my  mother's  fan,  still  I  would  do  it.  No  doubt  it  was  the 
wickedest  thing  I  could  do,  and  so  it  must  be  done ;  and  it  was 
done,  though  at  the  cost  of  conscience. 

"And,  too,  by  some  means,  (how,  I  have  now  no  conception,) 
I  obtained  the  idea  that  moral  responsibility  did  not  attach  itself 


238  PETER  SCHLEMIHL. 

to  very  little  children,  and  I  hoped  I  should  die,  before  that  day 
should  reach  me;  and  when  I  heard  of  the  'millenium,'  when  all 
would  be  good,  I  repined,  and  thought  how  hard  it  was  to  be 
sent  into  the  world  before  that  time  had  come. 

"  I  tell  you  of  these  little  thoughts  of  mine  to  show  you  the 
activity  of  my  mind  at  a  very  early  age.  How  long  they  lasted, 
I  cannot  now  say. 

"I  was  early  taught  the  Westminster  Catechism,  of  which  I 
have  little  or  no  recollection,  but  that  vast  thoughts  were  at  work 
in  my  mind,  as  to  the  great  doctrines  of  God's  sovereignty,  the 
election  of  the  good,  and  the  damnation  of  the  wicked.  These 
great  subjects  were  then  fresh,  and  my  little  head  strove  to  recon 
cile  what  has  puzzled  angels,  whom  Milton  tells  us, — 

'sat  on  a  bill  apart 

And  reasoned  high  of  fate,  fixed  fate,  of  freewill,  foreknowledge  absolute, 
And  found  no  end  in  wondering  mazes  lost.' 

"  One  subject  our  minister  never  let  us  forget;  it  was  our  alien 
ation  from  God  by  nature,  and  that  we  must 'be  born  again.' 
To  Nicodemus  these  words  could  not  be  more  astounding  and 
inexplicable  than  they  were  to  me — *  Ye  must  be  born  again  !' 
And  this  great  change  was  from  without,  and  beyond  me. 

"As  my  school-girl  days  grew  on,  the  thoughts  of  life,  my 
school  studies,  and  the  beautiful  imaginings  of  the  future,  kept  all 
these  painful  thoughts  in  abeyance.  Yet  I  would  sometimes,  amid 
the  gayest  occupations  of  life,  seem  to  hear  those  words — '  Ye 
must  be  born  again  !'  They  were  like  the  death-watch  beside  the 
bed  of  a  dying  man ;  I  could  not  get  rid  of  their  fearful  forebodings. 

"  I  was  married  young,  and  removed  to  this  city,  where  all  was 
new  to  me.  My  husband  was  the  idol  of  my  affections;  I  lived 
only  to  be  happy;  and  as  he  could  spend  but  little  time  with  me 
during  the  days  of  business,  we  spent  our  Sundays  at  home,  or 
in  some  pleasant  excursion  abroad.  And  for  some  two  or  three 
years,  I  never  saw  the  inside  of  a  church,  so  that  my  mind  became, 
in  a  great  measure,  dispossessed  of  the  feelings  of  my  child 
hood. 

"Having  removed  into  St.  Thomas  Square,  in  the  immediate 
vicinity  of  the  Episcopal  church,  then  under  the  pastoral  charge 
of  the  Reverend  Verdant  Green,  my  husband  proposed  we  should 
take  a  pew  in  it,  and  a  very  eligible  seat  becoming  vacant,  he  hired 
it,  and  when  we  had  nothing  else  to  do,  we  attended  on  this  gen 
tleman's  ministry.  I  must  acknowledge  that  the  ritual  was  not, 
at  first,  pleasing  to  me  ;  but  the  congregation  was  fashionable,  and 
I  saw  those  there,  whom  I,  this  evening,  have  had  the  satisfaction 
of  seeing  here. 


MRS.  SMITH  GOES  TO  "  THE  CHURCH."  239 

"  As  the  time  for  seeking  their  friendship  had  not  then  been 
attained,  they  knew  me  only  as  a  very  well-dressed  lady,  whose 
air  and  mien  wore  the  marks  of  a  high  fashion,  in  the  severest 
style  of  costume  ;  for  while  everything  was  rich  and  well-made, 
I  rather  sought  to  induce  inquiry  by  my  general  air  of  refinement 
and  movement,  than  to  be  otherwise  known.  If  in  this  I  suc 
ceeded,  I  attained  my  end.  In  the  church  I  assumed  quite  the  air 
of  a  devotee — the  whole  mien  was  one  of  profound  attention,  and 
though  I  was  dying  to  stare  back  upon  my  gazers,  yet  I  deemed 
it  best  to  suit  my  demeanor  to  my  costume.  Few,  perhaps  none, 
wore  a  richer  collar,  or  a  more  costly  mouchoir. 

"  I  had  the  satisfaction  to  hear  that  I  was  noticed,  inquired  after, 
and  though  the  curiosity  was  more  than  satisfied  when  they  learned 
it  was  the  wife  of  the  great  dry  goods  merchant  down  street,  yet  it 
favored  my  ulterior  plans,  that  they  should  be  thus  possessed  of 
the  knowledge  of  the  fact,  that  I  really  iiad  an  existence  in  this 
breathing  world. 

"  As  I  knew  not  what  else  to  do  at  church,  I  listened  to  the 
sermons  of  the  Rev.  Verdant  Green.  At  first,  I  did  not  perfectly 
comprehend  what  he  said,  nor  whereof  he  affirmed.  Some  scraps 
of  thought  would  come  up  in  some  connection  which  was  fami 
liar,  and  recalled  the  religious  sentiments  of  my  childhood ;  and 
by  degrees  I  began  to  drink  into  the  spirit  of  his  theology.  I 
found  the  symbol  on  the  seal  of  the  Prayer  Book  Society  was 
literally  true,  that  the  Prayer  Book  not  only  rested  on  iheface  of 
the  Scriptures,  but  hid  a  good  portion  of  them  from  view  ;  so 
that  in  the  Doctor's  preaching,  as  on  the  seal,  the  Prayer  Book  was 
uppermost. 

"  Gradually,!  discovered  coming  into  distinct  shape,  the  dogma 
that  Christ  had  left  himself  perpetually  incarnate  through  the  sa 
craments  ;  and  that  he  now  dispenses  the  gifts  of  the  Holy  Spirit, 
not  by  imparting  them  directly  to  the  individual  who  privately 
studies,  or  publicly  hears,  the  truths  of  the  Word;  or  who,  inde 
pendently  of  all  outward  ordinances,  seeks  those  gifts  in  secret 
and  believing  prayer,  but  by  having,  once,  for  all,  deposited  those 
gifts  in  the  hands  of  the  Apostles  alone,  to  be  by  them  handed 
down,  through  and  by  successors,  through  sacraments,  to  the  bo-  * 
dy  of  the  Church.* 

.  "  This  was  all  new  to  me,  and  I  took  great  pleasure  in  listen 
ing  to  the  doctor,  who  did  me  the  favor  to  make1  me  frequent 
visits,  and  even  proffered  his  services  in  making  me  acquainted 
with  his  friends  ;  which  I  deemed  it  best  to  decline.  I  told  him 
of  the  great  bug-bear  of  my  childhood,  and  he  assured  me  that 

*  So  Dr.  Stone,  of  Brooklyn,  in  "  Mysteries  Opened,"  preface,  p.  5,  1844. 


240  PETER  SCHLEMIHL. 

*  the  word  regeneration  in  the  Scripture,  solely  and  exclusively 
applied  to   the  one  effect  of  baptism,  once  administered  ;  and  is 
never  synonymous  with  the  repentance  or  reformation  of  a  Chris 
tian  ;  or  was   never  used   to  express  any  operation  of  the  Holy 
Ghost  upon  the  human  mind  subsequent  to  baptism,'*  and  he  said 
with   emphasis,  *  If  the  work  of  regeneration  is  not  effected  by 
baptism,  it  is  impossible  for  any  sober  man  to  say  when  and  by 
what  means  it  is.'t 

"  The  Reverend  gentleman  was  pleased  with  my  conversion, 
as  he  was  pleased  to  call  it,  and  was  very  kind  in  making  me 
frequent  visits  to  show  me  the  way  of  the  church  more  perfectly, 
and  evinced  no  little  solicitude  that  I  should  be  brought  into  its 
embraces.  That  the  way  of  regeneration  should  have  been  so 
simplified,  and  baptism  made  a  sort  of  ''celestial  rail  road1  to  the 
skies,  was  to  me  a  grand  discovery,  and  I  was  induced  to  request 
him  to  baptize  me  at  my  own  house ;  and  as  1  had  a  great  disin 
clination  to  making  any  parade  of  myself,  he  graciously  acceded 
to  my  wish  to  be  baptized  in  my  own  parlor.  I  made  a  party  of 
a  few  friends  the  next  evening  in  order  that  we  should  not  lack 
for  auditors,  and  the  Reverend  doctor,  before  coffee  and  tea  were 
brought  in,  opened  the  prayer  book  to  the  appropriate  forms,  and 
the  ceremony  commenced.  I  must  confess  it  was  not  without 
some  misgivings  on  my  part,  for  I  found  myself  called  upon  to 

*  renounce  the  devil  and  all  his  works,  the  vain  pomp  and  glory 
of  the  world,'  so  that  I  was  '  no  longer  to  follow,  nor  be  led  by 
them,'   and   I   received    the  cross  on  my  forehead  in  token  that 

*  thereafter  I  was  manfully  to  fight  against  sin,  the  world  and  the 
devil.'     Pretty  sweeping  work  it  was,"  exclaimed  Mrs.  Smith. 

The  Gentleman  in  Black  smiled  with  a  most  amused  air,  as 
if  it  would  have  done  his  heart  good  to  have  given  way  to  the 
mirthfulness  he  suppressed. 

Mrs.  Smith's  quick  eye  was  not  unobservant.  She  continued: 
"  I  really  don't  know  that  I  had  any  objection  to  the  first  of  these 
pledges,  and  as  for  the  devil,  I  had  no  wish  to  make  any  com 
pact  with  him;  but  what  most  truly  pained  me  was,  this  renun 
ciation  of  the  '  pomp  and  glory  of  this  world,'  of  which  I  knew 
so  little,  and  hoped  to  know  more ;  but  it  was  too  late  to  retreat, 
and  I  went  through  with  the  service,  not  altogether  well  pleased 
with  myself  when  it  was  over. 

"  This  first  step  taken,  the  Reverend  doctor  was  earnest  I 
should  take  the  next,  which  was  that  of  confirmation.  But  I 
had  no  wish  to  figure  among  a  dozen  or  more  gaily  dressed  young 

*  So  Bishop  Tomline,  in  his  refutation  of  Calvinism. 

f  So  Bishop  Mant.,  quoted  in  "  Christian  Observer,"  vol.  xv.  p.  70. 


ON  CONFIRMATION.  241 

girls,  attired  in  all  the  pomp  and  pride  and  vanity  of  life  kneeling 
before  the  altar,  making  solemn  vows  which  it  seemed  to  me  were 
broken  in  the  very  act  of  taking  them. 

"  The  reverend  doctor's  visits  now  became  alarmingly  frequent, 
and  they  rarely  closed  without  a  very  warm  Apostolical  saluta 
tion  which  I  thought  quite  uncalled  for  in  these  degenerate  days, 
and  not  altogether  safe  to  the  lambs  of  the  flock  committed  to 
his  charge :  so  I  determined  to  make  an  end  of  the  matter." 

"And  was  not  this  a  very  difficult  as  well  as  delicate  task?" 
inquired  the  Gentleman  in  Black  with  a  smile. 

"It  was,"  replied  Mrs.  Smith,  with  a  bright  saucy  look,  which 
was  exceedingly  beautiful,  "but  I  felt  myself  equal  to  the  task; 
and  accordingly,  when  this  subject  was  again  renewed,  I  ventured 
to  express  my  doubts  as  to  this  rite  being  one  of  apostolical  origin. 
The  doctor  was  astonished,  and  cited  to  me  the  text  of  the  apos 
tles  going  round  '  confirming  the  churches.'  I  asked  him  what 
this  could  mean.  If  they  believed  before,  then  for  them  to  preach 
the  gospel  to  churches,  planted  by  evangelists,  would  doubtless 
be  a  confirmation  of  the  faith,  and  of  the  miracles  of  which  they 
had  been  eye  witnesses,  which  indeed  they  had  the  power  to  re 
peat.  The  doctor  replied  that  '  the  fathers  were  explicit  on  this 
point ;  the  tradition  was  universal,  and  could  not  be  questioned.' 

"This  led  to  a  discussion  as  to  the  virtues  imparted  in  con 
firmation.  His  replies  to  my  inquiries  were  neither  clear  nor 
convincing,  and  so  the  matter  dropped  at  that  time. 

"  The  next  visit,  I  asked  him  if  he  could  tell  me  why  it  was 
that  the  Roman  priests,  before  they  were  ordained,  had  their 
heads  shaved?*  He  told  me  he  really  did  not  know,  but  doubt 
less  there  was  some  good  and  sufficient  reason.  I  replied,  I  had 
had  my  thoughts  turned  to  the  subject  by  finding  a  passage  in 
St.  Clement,  and  that  it  would  seem  to  give  a  clue  to  the  custom. 
The  Doctor,  more  and  more  interested,  begged  me  to  tell  him 
what  had  been  my  thoughts  on  the  subject.  I  assumed  so  dif 
fident  an  air,  that  he  found  it  necessary  to  take  a  seat  on  the  sofa 
beside  me,  and  to  take  my  hand  in  his,  and  to  entreat  me  to  go  on. 
I  told  him  he  might  think  it  very  strange  such  thoughts  should 
come  into  my  head,  but  I  found  them  there,  and  they  would  not 
go  away;  and  the  more  I  thought  about  them,  the  more  plausi 
ble  they  seemed  to  me.  So  after  a  little  more  encouragement  on 
his  part,  I  ventured  upon  my  theory  of  ordination. 

"I  asked  him,  'if  I  understood  the  teaching  of  the  Church,  the 
divine  afflatus  bestowed  upon  the  apostles  by  the  Saviour,  de- 

*  The  tonsure  always  precedes  the  consecration  of  priests. — Encyclopaedia, 
Americana,  article  "  Tonsure." 
1(5 


242  PETER  SCHLEMIHL. 

scended  by  emanation  from  them  to  and  upon  their  successors 
to  the  end  of  time  ?'  He  bowed  his  assent.  *  That  this  virtue 
went  out  of  them  through  the  imposition  of  hands,  laid  on  the 
heads  of  those  they  ordained  :  and  this  being  so,  it  seemed  to  me 
it  must  be  likened  unto  electricity,  which  has  this  peculiarity, 
that  though  it  passes  through  a  chain  of  millions,  is  just  as  power 
ful  in  the  last  link  of  the  chain  as  in  the  first.  Is  it  so  ?'  The 
Doctor  said,  '  the  figure  was  certainly  admirably  appropriate,  and 
perfectly  correct.'  'Then,'  I  said,  *  if  it  be  so,  and  these  are  the 
laws  of  impartation  of  this  grace  of  apostleship  and  ordination,  it 
must  be  obvious  that  if  there  be  any  link  broken,  or  foreign  body 
intervening,  the  fluid  must  cease  to  flow.'  The  Doctor  looked 
grave;  he  did  not  exactly  like  this  Socratic  mode  of  reasoning — 
but  I  looked  him  in  the  face  for  a  response.  He  said,  '  you  do 
not  mean  to  bring  up  the  charge  that  any  link  is  wanting  in  the 
claims  of  the  Church  to  an  unbroken  succession.'  '  By  no  means 
— but  have  I  fairly  stated  the  position?  any  link  broken,  or  any 
foreign  body  intervening,  contrary  to  the  laws  of  divine  influence, 
the  current  would  cease?'  He  said,  'yes,  that  seems  to  be  just; 
perfectly  so.  But  what  is  this  quotation  from  Clement?'  '  Wait 
a  while,'  I  said;  '  I  haven't  come  to  that.'  ' 

"Really,  my  dear  Mrs.  Smith,"  interrupted  the  Gentleman  in 
Black,  "  I  am  in  as  great  a  fog  as  the  reverend  Doctor,  and  can  by 
no  means  guess  where  you  are  coming  out." 

Mrs.  Smith  gave  one  of  her  beautiful,  gay  laughs,  and  said — 
"  I  was  really  astonished  at  my  success  so  far,  and  thought  it  was 
time  to  bring  matters  to  a  close,  so  I  said — '  Now  we  know  that 
hair  is  a  bad  conductor,  indeed,  a  non-conductor,  of  electric  fluid, 
and  the  heads  of  the  priests  were,  in  my  opinion,  shaved  before 
being  ordained,  that  there  should  be  no  obstacle  to  the  most  per 
fect  and  complete  impartation  of  the  virtues  conferred  in  ordina 
tion.'  The  Doctor  seemed  surprised  at  such  a  result,  and  I  con 
tinued — '  This  idea  is  confirmed,  and,  indeed,  positively  asserted 


by  St.  Clement.  Is  he  not  a  saint,  and  good  authority  ?'  I  asked- 
4  Very  good,'  he  replied.  '  Well,  then,'  I  continued,  '  Clement, 
in  his  Pedagogue,  says — "False  hair  is  utterly  to  be  abominated  ; 
it  is,  moreover,  impious  to  wear  the  hair  of  the  dead — for  upon 
whom  does  the  bishop  lay  his  hand  ?  Upon  whom  does  he  pro 
nounce  his  blessing?  not,  surely,  upon  the  women  so  decorated,  but 
on  the  false  hair,  and  therefore  upon  the  strange  head!"  Now, 
Doctor,  what  becomes  of  those  confirmations  of  men  who  wear 
wigs  and  scratches,  and  women  who  wear  false  hair  ?  St.  Cle 
ment  is  a  Christian  father — one  of  the  great  lights  of  the  church. 
Is  he  a  false  light  ?  If  he  be  worthy  of  his  high  reputation,  then 
are  not  all  such  confirmations  void  and  worthless  ?' 


OF  THE  ORDINATION  OF  PRIESTS.  243 

"  The  Doctor  was  perplexed,  and  turned  aside  the  force  of  my 
inquiry,  by  playing  with  my  curls,  and  saying,  in  his  sweetest 
manner — '  My  dear  child,  though  this  be  so,  these  are  as  true  as 
they  are  lovely — this  beautiful  head,'  laying  his  hand  upon  it, 
*  wears  no  false  hair.'* 

"  Seeing  I  was  about  to  renew  the  controversy,  he  pulled  out 
his  watch,  and  pleading  an  engagement,  took  his  leave,  and  from 
that  time  he  made  me  no  more  visits,  and  the  subject  of  my  con 
firmation  was  never  again  spoken  of." 

"My  dear  madam,"  said  the  Gentleman  in  Black,  with  a  look 
expressive  of  the  most  entire  admiration,  "  you  have  really  taken 
me  by  surprise.  And  do  you  know  that  you  have  unsettled  the 
entire  superstructure  of  the  church,  as  to  the  validity  of  their  or 
dinations,  in  a  direction  never  before  attempted  ?" 

"  Is  it  possible  !"  exclaimed  Mrs.  Smith.  "  How  could  I  have 
done  so  much  mischief  by  a  little  piece  of  pleasantry  ?" 

The  Gentleman  in  Black  replied :  "  The  doctor  doubtless 
would  have  said  to  you  in  the  words  of  Sir  Roger  L'Estrange's 
fable  of  the  frogs  pelted  by  the  boys  with  stones :  '  This  may  be 
fun  for  you,  but  'tis  death  to  us.'  My  dear  madam,  you  have 
cited  the  authority  of  a  great  father  of  the  church — you  have 
cited  a  custom  of  the  Catholic  Church,  the  reason  for  which, 
though  perhaps  forgotten,  has  never  ceased  to  be  practised,  and  in 
opposition  to  these  comes  the  appalling  fact  that  the  practice  of 
'the  church,' has  been  for  centuries  to  constitute  men  bishops 
wearing  wigs  of  vast  size,  saturated  with  oil,  and  covered  with 
powder,  so  if  your  views  be  correct,  and  they  have  a  strong  pro 
bability  in  their  favor,  the  current  of  divine  influence  has  long 
since  been  interrupted,  the  links  of  succession  have  been  broken, 
and  the  church  has  not  had  a  bishop,  priest,  or  deacon  set  apart 
for  years,  on  whose  ministrations  any  sane  man  would  risk,  if  it 
were  a  matter  of  dollars  and  cents,  instead  of  their  souls'  salva 
tion,  a  single  dollar.  No,  madam  !  if  the  insurance  of  their  lives 
or  houses  depended  on  the  validity  of  these  ordinations  and  bap 
tismal  regenerations,  not  a  man  would  pay  the  premium  of  a  mill 
on  a  million  of  dollars  at  stake." 

"  My  dear  sir,"  replied  Mrs.  Smith,  "  you  astonish  me — but 

*  Lest  Mrs.  Smith's  argument  should  disturb  the  peace  of  any  of  my  read 
ers,  it  is  due  to  them  to  state,  that  Lysons,  in  his  work  on  the  environs  of  Lon 
don,  tells  us,  that  at  Lambeth  Palace  is  a  gallery  of  portraits,  which  contains 
the  pictures  of  all  the  archbishops,  from  Laud  to  the  present  time,  from  which 
it  appears  that  Archbishop  Tillotson  was  the  first  who  wore  a  wig,  which 
was  not  unlike  the  natural  hair,  and  even  without  powder.  Wigs,  such  as 
are  referred  to  by  the  Gentleman  in  Black,  came  into  fashion  at  a  subsequent 
day. 


244  PETER  SCHLEMIHL. 

let  us  keep  it  a  secret — *  Where  ignorance  is  bliss,  'tis  folly  to  be 
wise.'  If  it  were  known,  there  would  be  a  new  motive  for  all 
these  pious  people  becoming  Catholics  at  once,  which  would  be 
dreadful  indeed. 

"  After  the  lapse  of  a  couple  of  years,"  continued  Mrs.  Smith, 
"  we  removed  up  town,  and  my  husband  was  pleased  to  take  a 
deep  interest  in  the  erection  of  a  new  church,  which  was  placed 
under  the  care  of  a  distinguished  scholar  from  the  city  of  Bos- 
tonia.  Here  I  found  myself  introduced  to  an  entirely  new  set  of 
opinions.  At  first,  I  was  at  a  loss  to  comprehend  '  the  faith  of 
Jesus,'  as  it  was  styled.  The  Redeemer  was  shorn  of  his  divini 
ty,  and  yet  there  was  at  the  close  of  the  prayers  some  words  as 
though  he  held  some  place  as  an  intercessor,  for  they  usually 
ended  with  some  such  phrase  as,  '  all  which  we  offer  in  the  name, 
or  through  the  name  of  thy  son,  our  Saviour,'  &c. 

"  The  sermons  were  gracefully  delivered,  and  very  beautifully 
written,  and  the  rewards  of  virtue  and  the  deformity  of  vice  were 
skillfully  presented.  By  degrees,  I  found  the  Bible  was  not 
what  I  had  been  taught  to  believe  it  to  be — the  word  of  God, 
through  iioly  men,  '  who  spake  as  they  were  moved  by  the  Holy 
Ghost ;'  and,  indeed,  in  a  short  time,  I  began  to  doubt  the  person 
ality  of  the  Holy  Spirit.  This  was  my  first  step  in  the  progress 
I  made  in  what  was  termed  '  liberal  Christianity.' 

"  By  degrees  I  grew  familiarized  to  doubt  the  integrity  of  the 
Scriptures ;  and  to  give  you  an  example  or  two,  I  was  taught 
that  '  the  narrative  of  Luke  was  in  a  style  rather  poetical  than 
historical.  With  its  real  miracles,  the  fictions  of  oral  traditions 
had  probably  become  blended,  and  that  the  individual  by  whom 
it  was  committed  to  writing,  probably  added  what  he  regarded  as 
poetical  embellishments.  That  with  our  present  means  of  judg 
ing,  we  could  not  draw  a  precise  line  between  the  truth  and  what 
has  been  added  to  the  truth.'*  'That  the  cast  of  the  narrative 
respecting  Christ's  nativity,  has  something  of  a  poetical  and  even 
fabulous  character.'!  '  That  fictions  began  early  to  be  propagated 
concerning  the  nativity  and  childhood  of  Jesus,  and  that  to  these 
the  narrative  contained  in  the  first  and  second  chapter  of  Mat 
thew  appear  to  belong,  from  its  intrinsic  character — and  in  the 
story  of  the  Magi,  we  find  represented  a  strange  mixture  of  as 
trology  and  miracle. 'I 

*  Prof.  Norton's  Evidence  of  the  Genuineness  of  the  Gospels.  Additional 
Notes,  p.  61,  62. 

t  Ibid.,  Add.  Notes,  p.  54.  f  Ibid.,  Add.  Notes,  p.  59. 

Prof.  Norton  has  here  placed  in  the  same  age  with  the  Gospels  of  Luke 
and  Matthew,  the  puerile  fictions  of  the  "Protevangelion"  and  "the  Infancy 
of  Jesus."  Those  who  have  read  these  pious  frauds  of  some  stupid  monk, 


LIBERAL  CHRISTIANITY.  245 

"And  so  I  found  'the  big  ha'  Bible,  ance  my  father's  pride,' 
gradually  reduced  in  size  as  well  as  respectability.  Moses  and 
the  Old  Testament  faded  away  till  they  became  the  myths  of  the 
ancient  Hebrews,  and  having  thus  summarily  got  rid  of  the  larger 
half  of  the  Bible,  the  work  of  demolition  went  on  from  time  to 
time,  as  topics  occurred,  until  I  knew  not  what  was  left. 

"  The  New  Testament  underwent  a  severe  scrutiny,  which 
lessened  its  bulk  materially.  All  the  genealogies  of  Christ  were 
imaginary,  and  the  innocent  fictions  of  well  meaning  men,  who, 
to  give  force  to  the  teachings  of  their  Master,  so  far  catered  to  the 
expectations  of  the  people,  and  thus  sought  to  meet  the  demand 
for  a  divine  origin  of  their  Messiah.  Then,  as  I  have  already 
stated,  the  miraculous  birth  of  Jesus,  and  the  miracles,  one  by 
one,  began  to  disappear  in  the  powerful  alembic  to  which  they 
were  subjected.  The  devil,  so  long  the  object  of  youthful  terror, 
became  the  personification  only  of  evil  passions.  All  this  while 
we  were  encouraged  to  cherish  an  admiration  for  all  that  bore  the 
stamp  of  genius,  the  only  inspiration  that  seemed  to  be  recog 
nized." 

"  You  interest  me  exceedingly,"  said  the  Gentleman  in  Black ; 
"  won't  you  be  so  kind  as  to  give  me  this  with  somewhat  more 
of  particularity  ?" 

"With  great  pleasure,"  replied  Mrs.  Smith.  "You  must 
know,  that  in  my  new  found  church  of  liberal  Christianity,  we 
had  two  classes  of  persons,  the  initiated  and  the  uninitiated,  and 
for  these  there  were  two  styles  of  preaching  and  conversation, 
which  may  be  well  styled  the  exoteric  and  the  esoteric,  for  a 
while  I  was  with  all  propriety  placed  in  the  first  class,  and  it  was 
only  after  becoming  familiarized  to  the  new  views,  that  I  was  in 
doctrinated  into  the  mysteries  of  the  shekinah.  It  was  then  I 
learned  for  the  first  time,  that  in  the  Old  Testament,  the  history  of 
the  creation  of  paradise,  and  of  Adam  and  Eve,  were  nothing  but 
allegories  and  myths.  That  the  Pentateuch,  which  may  be  looked 
upon  as  a  sort  of  '  theoretic  epic,'  was  not  written  by  Moses,  but 
was  completed  at  a  much  later  period ;  and  Jehovah  was  but  a 
household  god  or  Fetiche,  of  the  family  of  Abraham,  which  David, 
Solomon  and  the  prophets,  afterwards  promoted  to  the  rank  of 
Creator  of  all  things.  The  book  of  Esther  was  pronounced  an 
historical  romance,  and  that  of  Ruth,  written  for  the  purpose  of 
proving  David  to  have  sprung  from  a  good  family.  As  to  poor 
Jonah  and  his  whale,  it  was  but  the  repetition  of  the  fable  of 

will  be  best  able  to  see  the  full  force  of  the  contempt  thus  thrown  upon  the 
Evangelists.  It  is  difficult  to  conceive  how  Gibbon  could  have  made  an  at 
tack  more  insidious  upon  the  claims  of  the  Gospel  to  the  respect  of  mankind. 

PETER  SCHLEMIHL. 


246  PETER  SCHLEMIHL. 

Hercules  swallowed  by  a  sea-monster.  The  prophets  were  al 
lowed,  by  some,  to  have  been  clever  men,  who  saw  further  into 
futurity  than  their  fellow  men,*  while  others  assigned  them  the 
character  of  demagogues  and  radical  reformers,!  and  as  to  the 
prophecy  of  the  destruction  of  Babylon,  which  was  somewhat 
perplexing  to  young  beginners,  it  was  confidently  asserted  that 
it  was  written  by  some  one  present  at  the  siege ;  and  as  to  the 
predictions  supposed  to  refer  to  Jesus,  in  the  same  rhapsodies, 
as  the  prophecies  were  called,  they  relate  to  the  fortunes  and  ulti 
mate  fate  of  prophets  in  general. 

"Now  to  come  down  to  the  New  Testament — the  birth  of 
Jesus  is  ranked  in  the  class  of  mythological  fictions,  along  with 
the  stories  of  the  incarnations  of  the  Indian  gods,  and  more  espe 
cially  that  of  Bhudda's  generation,  from  a  virgin  who  had  con 
ceived  him  by  a  rainbow. 

"As  to  the  teachings  of  Jesus,  and  certain  claims  made  by  him, 
there  was  no  little  difficulty  to  save  something  out  of  the  com 
mon  ruin,  upon  which  to  build  the  Christian  Church.  It  was 
deemed  a  sufficient  and  satisfactory  answer,  by  a  neologist,  to  all 
such  questions,  that  his  motive  for  making  claims  to  a  divine 
origin,  was,  that  he  might  have  more  weight  as  a  moral  teacher; 
and  in  like  manner  he  was  induced  to  personate  the  Messiah, 
from  the  notion  entertained  by  his  admirers,  that  he  was  that 
promised  personage.  But  some  held  that  Jesus  was  a  noble  ma 
gician,  who  on  his  own  part  never  conceived  of  being  the  founder 
of  a  religion,  and  whose  Institute  only  assumed  the  form  of  re 
ligion  by  time.J 

"  Still  there  were  many  things  in  the  writings  of  the  Apostles 
which  were  sad  stumbling-blocks  in  our  exegesis,  and  it  was  final 
ly  resolved,  that  much  of  the  obscurity  of  these  doctrines  was 
owing  to  the  stupidity  and  superstition  of  these  apostles,  who 
misunderstood,  in  many  instances,  the  language  of  their  master,§ 
and  whose  gross  misconception  of  his  promises  as  to  a  future 
kingdom,  involved  him  with  difficulties  from  which  he  saw  no 
other  way  of  extricating  himself  honorably  but  by  death. "|| 

"  May  I  task  you,  my  dear  madarn,  to  tell  me  how  you  were 
let  in  behind  the  scenes,  to  become  so  great  a  proficient  in  these 
*  mysteries  ?' ' 

"  I  fear  you  are  already  wearied  with  my  narrative,"  replied 
Mrs.  Smith,  with  a  look  of  the  most  graceful  embarrassment. 

*  Eichorn.  j-  So  says  Mr.  Rose  of  the  Neologists  of  Germany. 

'  J  Wieland. 

§  So  De  Wette,  on  the  Death  of  Christ. 
||  Travels  of  an  Irish  Gentleman  in  Search  of  a  Religion,  p.  204. 


LIBERAL  CHRISTIANITY.  247 

"  By  no  means,  madam,"  replied  the  Gentleman  in  Black,  with 
enthusiasm,  "  I  deem,  with  Goethe,  '  the  greatest  and  deepest 
theme  of  the  history  of  the  world  and  of  man,  is  the  conflict  be 
tween  faith  and  unbelief?*  and  need  I  say  how  deep  an  interest  I 
take  in  your  narration  of  this  conflict  in  your  own  soul." 

Mrs. "Smith's  look  told  the  pleasure  she  felt  from  the  compli 
ment  paid  her  by  the  Gentleman  in  Black,  whose  tones  and  coun 
tenance  made  his  last  words  very  expressive.  She  continued  : — 

"  I  have,  as  you  see,  somewhat  anticipated  my  narrative. 

"  One  Sabhath  morning,  we  had  a  stranger,  whose  sermon  was 
full  of  old-fashioned,  orthodox  phrases,  with  meanings  purely  con 
ventional,  of  which  I  had  only  a  glimpse  here  and  there,  and  it 
wore  such  an  air  of  devotion,  and  so  much  of  the  forms  of  evan 
gelical  piety,  that  when  he  had  finished,  I  was  entirely  at  fault  to 
know  what  he  had  meant  by  all  that  he  had  told  us. 

"  There  had  come  up  a  sudden  shower,  and  as  I  had  no  course 
to  take  but  to  wait  till  it  was  over,  or  my  husband  should  send 
our  carriage  for  me,  I  sat  in  the  corner  of  my  pew,  and  fell  into 
a  brown  study,  which  must  have  lasted  a  longtime.  I  was  awak 
ened  by  a  lady  of  very  distinguished  air  and  manner,  whom  I 
had  observed,  with  her  daughter,  to  be  very  constant  attendants 
at  church.  She  addressed  me,  by  saying — '  That  her  carriage  was 
just  gone  with  some  friends  who  were  in  like  predicament  with 
myself,  and  as  I  lived  in  her  street,  she  would,  on  its  return,  be 
happy  if  I  would  take  a  seat  in  it  on  her  way  home.'  I  thanked 
her  for  her  courtesy,  and  gratefully  accepted  her  polite  invitation. 

"Her  daughter  then  advanced  towards  us.  She  was  singularly 
beautiful,  and  her  mother  very  kindly  introduced  her  to  me,  and 
we  all  sat  down,  awaiting  the  coming  of  her  carriage. 

"*  What  did  you  think  of  the  sermon  we  have  just  heard?' 
inquired  Mrs.  Percy,  for  that  was  the  name  of  my  new-found 
friend. 

"  I  replied,  very  frankly,  that '  I  had  been  greatly  mystified  by 
the  use  of  old  evangelical  phrases,  used  with  new  significations, 
and  that  I  felt  a  deep  repugnance  to  this  mode  of  teaching.  It 
seemed  to  me  a  want  of  fairness  on  the  part  of  the  preacher, 
and  of  confidence  in  his  opinions.' 

"  Mrs.  Percy  asked  me  '  if  I  had  been  taught  to  believe  in  the 
inspiration  of  the  Scriptures,  as  received  by  the  orthodox  ?' 

"  I  replied,  '  That  I  had  been  so  taught,  but  that  since  I  had 
become  an  attendant  at  this  church,  I  had  been  led  to  doubt  the 
correctness  of  my  early  impressions,  and  that  I  found  myself  in 

*  Goethe  ;  so  quoted  by  Tholuck,  in  History  of  Theology,  chap.  2,  sect.  1. 


248  PETER  SCHLEMIHL. 

a  labyrinth  of  doubt,  and  could  find  no  clue  which  would  lead  me 
to  that  certainty  in  my  new  views,  which  I  had  once  possessed.' 

"  '  That,'  she  said,  '  was  a  very  natural  condition  of  mind  to 
be  in,  and  which  she  had  herself  passed  through.' 

"  '  And  have  you,  my  dear  madam,'  I  asked,  *  any  two-foot 
rule — any  acknowledged  standard,  by  which  to  measure  all  this 
conflict  of  opinion  ?  I  should  be  most  grateful  if  you  will  tell 
me  where  I  can  obtain  it,  for  I  find  myself  greatly  perplexed.' 

"  '  Oh!'  she  replied,  '  that  is,  indeed,  a  chief  requisite,  which  is 
hard  to  attain  ;  but  before  we  can  build  the  temple  of  Truth,  we 
must  first  remove  the  rubbish  which  for  centuries  has  been  accu 
mulating  upon  the  souls  of  men,  weighing  them  down,  as  millstones 
about  their  necks,  in  a  slough  of  doubt  and  despondency.' 

"  '  Alas  !'  I  replied,  '  that  is  all  doubtless  very  true,  but  this 
rubbish?' 

"  '  This  rubbish  is  the  finite,  the  present,  the  apparent,  which 
bounds  our  vision,  and  shuts  up  from  our  souls,  the  infinite,  the 
future,  and  the  real.  There  is  an  education  of  the  senses,  a 
training  them  to  perfectness  ;  and  it  is  invested  with  a  great  charm. 
As  we  pass,  in  fancy,  out  from  the  brick  walls  of  civilized  life, 
with  what  imposing  greatness  bursts  upon  our  thought,  the  form 
of  the  unadulterated  savage,  with  his  eye  like  an  eagle's,  his  ear 
like  the  startled  fawn's,  and  his  step  like  the  panther  of  the  wil 
derness.  This  is  not  sensualism,  but  the  perfection  of  the  sen 
suous  nature :  it  is  the  human  form  in  harmony  with  untroubled 
streams  and  unbroken  forests, — belonging,  in  no  mean  relation,  to 
the  picture  that  is  arched  in  the  receding  heavens. 

"  '  The  utmost  perfectness  of  his  well  trained  eye  and  ear  re 
veals  naught  beyond  the  finite  to  the  savage  ;  his  eagle  eye,  pierce 
it  ever  so  high  or  far,  sees  not  God :  but  a  voice  comes,  as  it 
were,  from  behind  him, — a  presence  from  beneath  the  outward  ; 
and  from  the  infinity  within,  is  revealed  the  Great  Spirit  and  the 
land  of  shades  beyond  the  utmost  hunting  ground.'* 

"I  looked  my  admiration,  but  for  the  life  of  me,  I  was  in  a 
mizmaze,  and  could  only  express  my  gratitude  by  showing  my 
self  a  good  listener. 

"  She  continued:  '  this  presence  in  us  of  the  infinite  and  unseen 
is  variously  called  the  moral,  spiritual,  or  religious  nature.  From 
this  realm  within,  issues  our  love  of  the  beautiful,  our  aspirations 
for  the  august,  our  aspiration  for  the  high,  our  power  to  do,  or  to 
forbear.  It  is  the  birth-place  of  genius,  the  portal  of  revelation, 

*  Such  is  the  language  of  Transcendentalists,  as  contained  in  a  work  greatly 
admired,  entitled  "Studies  in  Religion,"  p.  17.  New  York.  Printed  by  C. 
Shepard.  1845. 


TRANSCENDENTALISM.  249 

the  threshold  on  which  God  and  man  meet.  It  is  worth  while 
to  cultivate  and  perfect  the  consciousness  of  such  a  nature,  to  lean 
back  on  eternity,  while  the  straws  of  time  float  hither  and  thither 
at  our  feet,  to  live  in  the  centre  of  God,  and  feel  the  beatings  of 
the  heart  of  all  things.'  ' 

"Fine  words  indeed!"  exclaimed  the  Gentlemen  in  Black. 
"  I  not  only  wonder  where  she  stole  'em,'  but  what  do  they 
mean?" 

"  Indeed,  that  is  what  I  can't  tell  you.  I  was  often  reminded, 
in  my  subsequent  conversations  with  this  lady,  of  the  mirage  of 
the  desert,  which  in  the  distance  wears  the  most  attractive  aspects 
of  groves  and  living  waters,  of  cities  with  their  golden  minarets, 
all  which  vanish  as  you  approach  them  ;  and  yet  'twas  long 
before  I  found  this  out,  and  from  oft  repeated  failures,  (believing 
the  fault  lay  in  my  own  mind,)  I  have  renewed  my  pilgrimage  on 
the  desert  before  me,  in  hope  that  I  should  at  last  reach  the  abso 
lute  and  the  real,  which  I  seemed  about  to  grasp,  but  which  again 
fled  before  me." 

"  This  leaning  back  upon  eternity,  is  really  wonderful,"  said 
the  Gentleman  in  Black,  "  and  I  should  think  those  who  tried  it, 
would  be  likely  to  fall  backward.  Such  people  may  be  called," 
continued  the  Gentleman  in  Black,  smiling,  "  the  Homeopaths  of 
Pantheism,  who,  having  made  an  extract  from  Spinoza,  dilute  it 
in  volumes  of  words,  so  that  his  thought  is  reduced  to  the  deca- 
tillionth  of  a  grain,  of  which  a  few  drops  taken  by  a  weak  head 
upon  an  empty  stomach,  makes  them  '  God-intoxicated.^  "t 

Mrs.  Smith  laughed  at  the  oddness  of  the  Gentleman  in  Black's 
remark,  and  said,  "  It  certainly  has  a  very  wonderful  effect  on 
one's  brains.  And  I  found  mine  all  in  a  whirl  as  I  listened  to 
Mrs.  Percy,  who,  finding  me  a  willing  auditor,  went  on. 

"  '  The  law  came  by  Moses  :  serious,  severe,  majestic  Moses  ; 
but  Jesus  ascended  the  spiritual  light  further  than  Moses :  the 
impassible  mountain  ridge  of  law,  that  seemed  the  ultimate  to  the 
latter,  became  in  the  experience  of  the  former,  fused  in  the  em 
bracing  atmosphere  of  love.  The  revelation  of  love  is  the  high 
est  we  can  attain  unto.  Love  is  spontaneous,  and  springs  from 
unity :  spirit  recognizes  itself  under  all  forms,  and  through  love 
seeks  re-union :  the  soul  seeks  truth,  beauty,  goodness,  from  the 
instinctive  impulse  that  springs  up  from  unity  of  nature.'! 

"  '  Spirit,'  continued  Mrs.  Percy,  '  is  the  invisible  force  be 
hind,  or  in  everything  that  appears.  The  outward  is  not  reality, 
but  the  form  of  it :  the  outward  is  the  manifestation  of  the  in- 

*  See  p.  18.     Studies  of  Nature. 

I  This  epithet  has  been  applied  to  Spinoza. 
Studies  in  Religion,  pp.  34  and  36. 


250  PETER  SCHLEMIHL. 

ward ;  the  sensuous  is  the  apparition  of  the  spiritual.  The 
human  frame,  no  more  than  the  stars  and  flowers,  but  equally 
with  them,  are  appearances  of  an  invisible  reality, — of  spirit. 
The  star  is  body,  so  the  flower,  and  so  our  form.  It  is  not  in  a 
figurative  sense  that  flowers  and  stars  are  our  brothers.'* 

"  Mrs.  Percy  stopped  for  a  reply;  I  was  at  my  wit's  end  what 
to  say,  and  not  liking  to  show  my  profound  ignorance,  I  asked 
her  a  question,  which  I  thought  would  act  like  the  winding  up  of 
a  watch. 

"  '  What,  dear  madam,  was  revealed  in  and  through  Jesus 
Christ?'  'The  principle  of  voluntary  obedience,'  she  replied. 
'This  is  a  peculiar  characteristic  of  Jesus's  mission;  voluntary 
obedience,  not  obedience  to  a  prescribed  law  because  we  must, 
but  obedience  to  it  because  we  love  it,  choose  it,  and  are  one  with 
it;  because  in  obeying  it,  we  act  out  ourselves.'! 

"  '  By  the  free  action  of  the  living  spirit  we  are  saved.  The 
great  object  of  Jesus  was  to  establish  faith  in  spirit,  as  the  primal, 
sovereign  element  in  which  we  move.'J 

"  I  was  quite  at  a  loss  what  next  to  say,  and  with  the  despera 
tion  of  a  poor  old  slave  I  once  heard  of,  whose  fervent  piety 
was  thrown  off  in  loud  Amens  !  which  sometimes  were  exceed 
ingly  inappropriate,  and  for  which  he  was  often  reproved ;  in  the 
midst  of  an  earnest  prayer  which  warmed  up  his  heart  to  such  a 
pitch,  that  he  cried  out,  '  Amen,  at  a  venter !'  so  I  asked  Mrs. 
Percy,  '  what  was  life  ?' 

"  *  Life,'  she  replied,  '  is  the  mode  in  which  the  invisible  spirit 
shows  itself.  My  life  is  the  making  visible  of  the  invisible 
power;  I — My  life,  stands  in  the  same  relation  to  me  that  I  do  to 
God.  And  if  life  is  the  making  visible  the  invisible,  there  can 
be  nothing  in  life  which  is  not  first  in  the  soul.§ 

"  '  If  my  definition  of  life  be  correct,'  continued  Mrs.  Percy, 
'  that  it  is  only  the  putting  forth  of  the  living  being,  and  has  no 
character,  only  as  it  takes  it  from  that,  then  my  destiny,  or  that 
which  I  am  destined  to  do,  depends  upon  my  nature.  I  must 
necessarily  do  what  I  am.  If  I  am  a  stone,  I  must  do  a  stone's 
life.  I  cannot  do  otherwise  than  what  I  am.  A  lump  of  ice 
cannot  ignite,  because  it  is  not  in  its  nature  to  do  so.  Being  what 
I  am,  I  must  do  as  I  am.  Destiny  lies  farther  back  than  life;  it 
is  in  the  soul  itself;  its  nature  is  destined  :  and  as  this  nature  is 
defined  in  its  origin  as  son  of  God,  its  destiny  flows  from  its 
origin.  My  nature  is  destined  ;  it  is  not  my  choice :  I  willed 
not  to  come  into  being  as  the  son  of  God :  I  was  sent ;  in  my 

*  Studies  in  Religion,  p.  11.  f  Ibid.,  p.  40. 

J  Ibid.,  p.  41.  §  Studies  in  Religion,  p.  162. 


CIRCLE  OF  FREE  INQUIRERS.  251 

origin  is  the  solution  of  my  destiny ;  as  I  am  a  child  of  God,  or 
of  the  good,  the  infinite,  so  I  am  destined  to  do  the  good,  the 
eternal ;  it  is  my  nature  so  to  do,  laid  upon  me  by  an  irresistible 
fiat:  it  is  natural;  I  am  born  to  it.'* 

"  At  this  moment  the  arrival  of  the  carriage  was  announced, 
and  as  we  rode  home,  Mrs.  Percy  proposed  I  should  join  a  'cir 
cle  of  inquirers,'  as  she  styled  them,  who  met  once  a  week  at 
each  other's  houses,  to  prosecute  their  studies  in  religion.  I  ex 
pressed  my  fears  '  that  my  profound  ignorance  would  be  a  barrier 
which  would  be  insurmountable ;  but  if  herself  and  friends 
would  permit  me  to  come  as  a  listener,  it  would  afford  me  the 
greatest  gratification.' 

"  The  next  week  I  received  a  note  inviting  me  to  meet  her 
friends  at  her  own  house.  1  accordingly  went,  and  was  intro 
duced  into  the  parlor,  where  there  were  ten  ladies,  all  wearing 
the  aspects  of  fashion  and  refinement,  and  as  I  discovered  after 
wards,  of  superior  attainments.  Most  of  them  were  younger 
than  myself.  I  was  received  with  extreme  kindness  and  cor 
diality.  I  expressed  my  acknowledgments  for  their  politeness, 
and  repeated  my  fears  that  I  should  be  found  a  dull  scholar,  and 
that  they  must  be  content  to  begin  with  me  at  the  alphabet  of 
their  science. 

"  '  My  dear  Mrs.  Smith,'  said  Miss  Eleanor  Saville,  '  you  must 
put  us  a  question  which,  to  your  mind,  seems  the  starting-point, 
the  first  letter  in  the  alphabet  of  knowledge.' 

"  I  replied,  '  I  wish  to  know  what  is  true  in  Christianity  ?' 

"  'This  is,  indeed,'  she  said,  '  the  pivotal  of  all  our  inquiries. 
There  are  some  differences  in  the  German  schools,  which  have 
been  designated  as  the  Naturalists,  who  regard  Christianity  as 
founded  on  facts  historical  but  not  miraculous,  and  the  Rational 
ists,  who  see  in  Jesus  a  virtuous  man,  and  in  the  historians  of  his 
life,  persons  who  believed  what  they  wrote.  The  Naturalists 
explain  the  miracles  on  what  they  consider  natural  principles, 
while  the  Nationalists,  of  whom  Strauss  is  one,  deem  the  whole 
as  mythical.' 

"  '  For  my  part,'  said  a  young  lady, '  I  agree  with  the  Wolfen- 
biittel  Fragmentist,t  in  believing  both  Moses  and  Jesus  were  po 
litical  deceivers,  and  that  the  death  of  the  latter  was  an  event  un- 

*  Studies  in  Religion. 

f  S.  H.  Reimarus,  edited  by  Lessing.  Tholuck,  speaking  of  the  Wolfen- 
bvittel  Fragmentist,  says — "  There  was,  for  a  long  time,  a  debate  who  the  au 
thor  of  this  work  really  was;  but  Samuel  Reimarus.  professor  in  Hamburg, 
acknowledged  himself  as  the  author  on  his  death  bed." 

The  author  says — "  Christ  wished  to  establish  an  earthly  kingdom,  but  fail 
ing  in  his  enterprise,  made  the  despairing  exclamation  on  the  cross." 


252  PETER  SCHLEMIHL. 

expected  by  himself,  and  which  his  disciples  could  only  meet  by 
feigning  an  account  of  his  resurrection.  And  how  can  Prof.  Norton 
call  his  own  pupils  "Infidels,"  for  their  unbelief  (as  he  is  pleased 
to  style  it),  when  he  himself  questions  the  resurrection  of  the 
saints  !*  If  Christ  appeared  to  his  disciples,  why  may  not  his 
saints  ? 

"  '  As  for  Moses,'  continued  the  young  lady,  '  the  evidences  of 
his  uncommon  wisdom,  doubtless,  passed  among  his  countrymen  for 
miracles,  and  as  Strauss  says,  "  his  calling  was  nothing  else  than 
that  this  patriot"  (these  are  his  words,  not  my  own,)  "  when  the 
long-cherished  thought  of  delivering  his  people  returned  to  him 
with  uncommon  vividness  in  a  dream,  held  this  for  a  divine 
monition.  The  smoke  and  burning  of  Sinai,  at  the  giving  of  the 
law,  were  but  a  fire  which  Moses  had  kindled  upon  the  mountain, 
for  the  purpose  of  producing  an  effect  upon  the  imagination  of  the 
people,  with  which,  accidentally,  a  heavy  thunder-storm  coincided. 
The  shining  of  his  countenance  was  the  result  of  great  excite 
ment,  which  not  only  the  people,  but  Moses  himself,  as  he  knew 
not  the  true  origin,  considered  as  something  divine."  't 

"  '  It  would  seem,'  I  ventured  to  say  to  this  young  lady,  '  that 
the  Bible  then  is  a  mere  collection  of  fables. '| 

"  '  No,'  replied  the  lady,  '  the  Scriptural  accounts  were  not,  per 
haps,  intentionally  deceptive,  and  therefore  not  fables,  but  they 
are  mythical,  either  veiling  great  truths  in  a  figurative  dress,  or 
describing  real  events  in  the  form  they  had  acquired  from  the  ex 
aggerations  of  popular  tradition. §  I  must  confess,  however,  'tis 
so  hard  to  sift  the  wheat  from  the  chaff,  that  the  rewards  are  not 
worth  the  labor  !' 

"  '  May  I  ask,'  I  inquired  of  the  lady  who  last  spoke,  '  what 
may  be  deemed  to  be  the  facts  which  are  to  be  relied  on,  so  far 
as  the  Saviour  is  concerned  ?'  She  replied,  *  With  regard  to  the 
actual  life  of  Jesus,  the  foundation  on  which  this  immense  mass 
of  fable  has  been  constructed,  according  to  Strauss,  are  these: 

*  The  miracle  of  the  appearing  of  the  saints  after  the  death  of  Christ,  is 
thus  spoken  of  by  Prof.  Norton,  in  his  Evidences  of  the  Genuineness  of  the 
Gospels,  Additional  Notes,  pp.  78,  79.  "  Who,  it  may  be  asked,  were  these 
saints  ?  How  long  had  they  lain  in  their  sepulchres  ?  After  Christ's  re 
surrection,  it  is  said,  they  left  their  sepulchres,  and  went  into  the  Holy  City. 
In  this  extraordinary  statement,  we  may  recognize,  I  think,  the  fabrication  of 
some  relator  of  the  story.  If  these  views  are  correct,  the  story  must  be  re 
garded  as  a  fable."  His  charge  of  infidelity  on  his  pupils,  is  shown  by  a  letter 
published  in  Boston  Daily  Advertiser,  Oct.  15,  1838. 

See  Appendix  B,  for  articles  by  Prof.  Norton  in  Boston  Daily  Advertiser. 

t  Life  of  Christ,  by  Strauss.     Vol.  i.  p.  19. 

J  See  Appendix  C,  for  articles  on  Transcendentalism. 

§  Strauss  makes  this  distinction. 


253 

"  Jesus  was  a  native  of  Nazareth,  the  son  of  Joseph  and  Mary ; 
the  entire  account  of  his  birth  in  Bethlehem,  with  all  its  circum 
stances  of  danger  and  of  miracle,  belongs  to  that  class  of  myths 
which  proceed  from  the  popular  desire  of  glorifying  the  early 
life  of  distinguished  men.  Some  exhibition  of  uncommon  intelli 
gence  in  childhood,  may  have  given  rise  to  the  story  of  his  so 
journ  in  the  temple,  when  twelve  years  old,  though  this  is  doubt 
ful.  He  probably  may  have  had  some  instruction  from  the 
Essenes,  or  from  the  Rabbins  and  intelligent  persons  whom  he 
met  at  the  feasts  at  Jerusalem.  At  about  thirty  years  of  age  he 
became  a  follower  of  John  the  Baptist,  who  appears  to  have  be 
longed  to  the  ascetic  sect  of  the  Essenes,  and  to  have  proclaimed 
the  popular  idea,  very  natural  among  an  oppressed  people,  that 
the  great  expected  national  deliverer,  the  Messiah,  was  at  hand. 
Jesus  probably  remained  a  follower  of  John,  much  longer  than 
the  partiality  of  tradition  would  allow  us  to  believe.  At  length 
he  began  to  preach — at  first,  the  same  doctrine  with  the  Baptist, 
that  the  Messiah  was  soon  to  appear.  Gradually,  as  he  became 
conscious  of  his  own  extraordinary  mental  powers,  the  idea  oc 
curred  to  him,  that  he  was  destined  to  fill  that  office.  His  con 
ception  of  the  messiahship,  which  at  first,  may  have  been  similar 
to  that  entertained  by  the  people  at  large,  rose  with  his  increasing 
experience,  until,  applying  to  himself  the  prophecies  of  the  Old 
Testament,  which  speaks  of  the  Son  of  God  as  suffering,  he  was 
convinced  that  a  violent  death,  which  the  malice  and  the  power 
of  his  enemies  rendered  probable,  was  a  part  of  his  great  mission. 
Having  exercised  the  office  of  a  teacher  of  virtue  and  the  re 
prover  of  hypocrisy,  he  was  at  length  put  to  death.  He  did  not 
rise  again,  but  the  excited  imaginations  of  his  followers  presented 
his  form  in  visions  ;  a  report  spread  of  his  resurrection,  which 
was  believed  among  his  followers,  and  contributed  chiefly  to  the 
success  of  his  religion."  '* 

"  I  returned  my  thanks  to  the  lady  for  her  admirable  synopsis, 
but  could  not  but  express  my  surprise,  that  so  singular  a  fact  as 
the  resurrection  of  Christ  should  have  obtained  credit,  and  been 
so  carefully  vouched  for.  This  remark  of  mine  drew  out  quite 
a  number  of  these  ladies.  One  spoke  of  the  very  short  time  our 
Saviour  hung  on  the  cross,  taken  in  connection  with  the  known 
slowness  of  that  mode  of  death. 

"  *  But  the  spear  in  his  side,'  said  I. 

"  *  Oh  that  cannot  be  considered  as  historical,'  replied  a  lady. 

"  Another  remarked,  that  'it  was  difficult  to  distinguish  swoons 
from  catalepsy.' 

*  See  Christian  Examiner,  Sept.  1845, 


254  PETER  SCHLEMIHL. 

"  And  another  lady  gave  an  example  from  Josephus,  who  re 
lates,  that  of  three  of  his  acquaintances  whom  he  obtained  per 
mission  from  Titus  to  have  taken  from  the  cross,  two  died,  and 
a  third  was  restored.* 

"  One  lady  told  us,  '  that  Paulus  supposes  Jesus  to  have  been 
taken  from  the  cross  in  a  swoon,  and  recovered  by  the  effect 
of  the  powerful  spices  placed  around  him,  while  his  wounds 
were  mollified  by  the  oils  used  in  embalming.'  Another  thought 
'  that  an  earthquake  and  a  flash  of  lightning  contributed  to 
awaken  him.'  Another  quoted  Bahrdt,  '  who  supposes  that  Jesus 
submitted  to  be  crucified,  and  feigned  to  expire;  that  he  was  taken 
from  the  cross  and  resuscitated  through  the  application  of  medi 
cal  means,  by  his  secret  associates.'  While  another  lady  stated, 
'  that  it  was  held  by  other  distinguished  Germans,  that  he  was 
thrown  into  a  death-like  sleep  by  a  draught  which  his  confede 
rates  had  administered  for  that  purpose.'! 

"I  must  confess,  that  though  these  conflicting  opinions  startled 
and  confounded  me,  they  did  not  satisfy  me.  If  the  narrative  be 
in  any  degree  true,  six  hours  on  the  cross  was  likely  to  destroy 
life,  even  had  there  been  no  spear  to  have  pierced  the  side  of  the 
Saviour,  and  the  cold  air  of  a  cavern  and  the  aroma  of  spices 
would  have  rather  stifled  the  last  breath  of  life,  than  have  pro 
moted  his  resuscitation,  so  it  seemed  to  me,  and  I  ventured  to 
say — '  I  could  not  but  express  my  regret,  that  the  resurrection 
could  be  questioned,  as  all  hope  of  our  future  life  seemed  to  rest 
on  the  integrity  of  this  part  of  the  evangelical  history.' 

"  *  My  dear  Mrs.  Smith,'  replied  the  lady  of  the  house,  '  a  life 
beyond  the  grave  is  the  last  enemy  which  speculative  criticism 
has  to  oppose,  and  if  possible  to  vanquish. 'J 

"  This  was  sufficient  for  a  first  lesson,  and  I  went  home  to 
ponder  over  what  I  had  heard.  The  next  day  I  received  a  visit 
from  Helen  Percy.  She  was  in  her  nineteenth  year,  her  form 
was  slender  and  tall,  her  face  full  of  sweetness,  and  eyes  beauti 
fully  bright.  I  was  greatly  pleased  with  her  from  the  first  mo 
ment  I  met  her.  She  seemed  to  me  the  very  personification  of 
gentleness  and  goodness. 

"After  our  first  salutations  were  over,  she  said,  '  I  have  called 
to  bring  you  the  pamphlet  which  my  mother  had  promised  to 
find  you  yesterday.  I  thought  you  would  be  the  better  pleased 
if  I  brought  it ;  and  I  wanted  to  hear  what  you  thought  of  all 
you  heard  yesterday.' 

*  Strauss,  vol.  ii.  p.  048.  f  So  quoted  by  Ch.  Ex.,  Sept.  1845. 

J  Strauss,  as  quoted  by  Dr.  Beard.  See  Appendix  B,  for  the  state  of  reli 
gious  opinions  in  Germany. 


TRANSCENDENTAL  PHILOSOPHY.  255 

"  I  told  her,  *  I  was  every  way  gratified  that  she  should  have 
made  me  the  call,  and  that  as  I  was  so  entirely  at  a  loss  to  under 
stand  much  I  had  heard,  she  would  render  me  the  greatest  ser 
vice,  if  she  would  give  me  some  private  lessons.' 

"  She  replied,  '  It  would  give  me  great  happiness  in  any  way 
to  please  you,  for  I'm  sure  I  shall  like  you  very  much,  and  I  want 
you  to  permit  me  to  cultivate  your  acquaintance.  Mother  has 
expressed  the  hope  that  we  shall  be  very  good  friends.' 

"  This  was  a  most  unexpected  pleasure ;  to  be  sought  by  one 
of  the  most  lovely  and  attractive  of  the  young  ladies  of  Babylon, 
who  was  herself  surrounded  by  all  that  was  distinguished,  and  a 
compliment  from  my  own  sex  too,  that  gave  me  a  moment  of  en 
joyment  I  had, never  before  experienced.  I  have  been  thus  par 
ticular,  because  this  young  lady  has  been  to  me  the  most  pre 
cious,  indeed,  the  only  friend  I  have  ever  known.  The  pamphlet 
was  the  '  Dial,'  a  publication  recently  commenced,  and  opening 
it  carelessly,  my  eye  rested  on  a  passage  which  read  thus— 

"  '  GENESIS. — The  popular  Genesis  is  historical.  It  is  written 
to  sense  and  not  to  soul.  Two  principles,  diverse  and  alien,  in 
terchange  the  godhead,  and  sway  the  world  by  turns.  God  is 
dual.  Spirit  is  derivative.  Unity  is  actual  melody.  The  poles 
of  things  are  not  integrated  ;  creation  is  globed  and  orbed.  Yet 
in  the  true  genesis,  nature  is  globed  in  the  material,  souls  orbed 
in  the  spiritual  firmament.  Love  globes,  wisdom  orbs,  all  things. 
As  magnet  the  steel,  so  spirit  attracts  matter,  which  trembles  to 
traverse  the  poles  of  diversity  and  rest  in  the  bosom  of  unity. 
Jill  genesis  is  of  love.  Wisdom  is  her  form,  beauty  her  cos 
tume.' 

"  I  read  the  passage  aloud  to  Helen,  and  asked  her  what  it 
meant;  she  confessed,  smiling,  'That  she  did  not  know.'  It  was 
singular  that  I  should  have  hit  upon  a  passage  which  she  said 
had  puzzled  the  coterie  at  one  of  their  meetings,  and  which  no 
one  could  solve  to  the  satisfaction  of  any  one,  though  all  had  their 
several  renderings.' 

"  Can  you,  my  dear  sir,  tell  me  what  it  means  ?"  asked  Mrs. 
Smith,  "  for  to  this  day  it  remains  unsolved.  There  seems  to  be 
a  great  deal  contained  in  it,  but  it  eludes  all  my  powers  of  com 
prehension." 

"  My  dear  madam,"  replied  the  Gentleman  in  Black,  "  what 
BLUMENBACH  said  of  Phrenology,  may  be  said  of  this  'Neology :' 
*  What  is  new  in  all  this,  is  not  true,  and  what  is  true,  is  not  new.' 
The  passage  you  have  recited  is  merely  a  new  phase  given  to 
old  authors,  who  are  now  masqueraded  for  the  admiration  and 
bewilderment  of  these  would  be  Pantheists  of  the  present  day, 
and  proves  the  truth  of  Dugald  Stewart's  observation  before  re- 


256  PETER  SCHLEMIHL. 

peated  by  me  this  evening,  that  '  opinions  are  like  tunes  on  a  bar 
rel  organ,  which  recur  at  intervals  with  a  uniformity  unwavering.' 
Cudworth  quotes  a  hymn  by  Sammius  Rhodius,  in  his  '  wings,1 
in  honor  of  love  as  the  active  principle  before  Chaos,  and  out  of 
which  the  world  was  made,  reading  thus : — 

"  '  I  am  not  of  that  wanton  boy 
The  sea-forth  goddess's  only  joy, 
Pure  heavenly  love,  I  hight,  and  my 
Soft  magic  charms,  not  iron  bands,  fast  tie 
Heaven,  earth  and  seas  ;  the  gods  themselves  do  readily 
Stoop  to  my  laws.     The  whole  world  dances  to  my  harmony.'* 

and  Aristophanes  in  his  '  Aves,'  says,  '  That  at  first  was  nothing 
but  night  and  chaos,  which,  laying  an  egg,  from  thence  produced 
love,  that  mingled  again  with  chaos,  begot  heaven,  earth,  and  ani 
mals,  and  all  the  gods.'t 

"  The  grand  enigma  to  be  solved,"  continued  the  Gentleman  in 
Black,  "  is  Life.  The  great  minds  of  Greece,  with  a  sagacity  never 
surpassed,  sought  to  find  a  way  out  of  the  dark  labyrinth  in 
which  they  found  themselves  involved.  They  looked  on  the 
world  as  they  found  it,  and  sought  to  know  its  origin.  Panthe 
ism  is  as  old  as  Noah's  ark,  and  though  the  world  was  washed 
clean  of  it  by  the  flood,  the  seeds  of  it  soon  again  germinated  on 
the  plains  of  Shinar,  and  has  ever  held  sway  in  the  minds  of  men 
capacitated  to  look  beyond  the  *  shows  of  things.'  And  the 
'  theory  of  development,'  which  has  been  recently  revived  with 
so  much  admiration,  is  as  old  as  Pythagoras." 

"  What  is  the  theory  you  speak  of?"  asked  Mrs.  Smith. 

"  It  is  that  brought  forward  as  a  new  discovery,  by  the  author 
of  the  '  Vestiges  of  Creation, 'J  that  a  globule,  having  a  new  globule 
forming  within  itself,  which  is  the  fundamental  form  of  organic 
being,  may  be  produced  in  albumen  by  electricity ;  and  as  such 

*  Cudworth,  vol.  i.  p.  267.  t  Ibid.,  vol.  i.  p.  264. 

J  The  success  of  this  work  (the  "  Vestiges  of  Creation"),  shows  how  suc 
cessful  old  forms  of  thought  can  be  re-vamped  and  made  to  pass  as  entirely 
new  theories.  The  pantheistic  hyzozism  (the  attributing  of  life  to  matter)  is 
an  old  form  of  Grecian  philosophy.  Tholuck,  in  his  essay  on  the  nature  and 
moral  influence  of  heathenism,  says  of  it.  "The  Pythagorean  Perictyon  thus 
mentions  it  as  in  itself  very  natural,  when  he  says,  '  whoever  is  in  a  situation 
to  resolve  all  the  laws  into  one  and  the  same  fundamental  power,  and  out  of 
this  to  replace  and  enumerate  them  together  again,  he  seems  to  be  the  wisest, 
and  to  have  the  nearest  approach  of  the  truth,  and  he  also  seems  to  have  found 
a  watch-tower  on  which  one  can  see  God,  and  view  all  which  pertains  to  him, 
in  its  proper  connection  and  order,  and  arranged  in  its  appropriate  place.' 
Just  so  was  the  import  of  polytheism  described  by  the  Stoic  school.  These 
pantheistic  materialists  viewed  God  as  the  spiritual  fire  with  whom  the  visible 
world  is  connected  in  the  most  intimate  union,  as  the  substratum  of  activity." 


257 

V 

globules  may  be  identical  with  living  and  reproductive  cells,  we 
have  the  earliest  germ  of  organic  life — the  first  cause  of  all  the 
species  of  animated  nature,  which  people  the  earth,  the  ocean  and 
the  air.  Born  of  electricity  and  albumen,  the  simple  monad  is 
the  first  living  atom;  the  microscopic  animalcules,  the  snail,  the 
worm,  the  reptile,  the  fish,  the  bird,  and  the  quadruped,  all  spring 
from  its  invisible  loins.  The  human  similitude  at  last  appears  in 
the  character  of  the  monkey,  the  monkey  rises  into  the  baboon, 
the  baboon  is  exalted  to  the  orang-outang,  and  the  chimpanzee, 
with  a  more  human  toe  and  shorter  arms,  gives  birth  to  man,  the 
temporary  autocrat  of  the  animal  world,  but  destined  to  give  place 
to  higher  orders  of  being,  in  the  never-ending  series  of  metamor 
phoses  with  which  futurity  is  pregnant.'* 

"  This  being  a  brother  to  a  baboon  is  not  so  very  gratifying, 
after  all,"  said  Mrs.  Smith.  "  It  seems  to  me,  the  Mosaic  account 
of  man  being  the  work  of  God,  created  in  his  very  image  and 
likeness,  is  decidedly  preferable.  Upon  what  new  revelation  or 
discoveries  does  the  author  base  his  revival  of  this  theory  ?" 

"  It  seems  a  Mr.  Crosse  produced,  as  he  honestly  believes,  a 
louse,  by  the  action  of  certain  acids  and  electricity ;  this  was  a 
wonderful  discovery,  and  created  a  great  sensation  in  the  world, 
and  upon  this,  the  solution  of  the  enigma  of  life  was  again  at 
tempted." 

"  But  then,"  said  Mrs.  Smith,  "  the  ends  of  the  chain  of  causes 
will  still  descend  from  the  clouds  to  be  buried  in  the  ocean ; — I 
don't  see  that  it  will  help  the  matter  much.  I  have  heard  of 
breeding  maggots  in  the  brain,  but  this  labor  of  the  author  of  the 
4  Vestiges'  falls  short  of  the  famous  mountain  of  Esop.  It  is  only 
a  louse. — Well,  let  it  riot  in  his  own  head;  I  shall  not  propagate 
the  species  in  mine." 

"  Let  me  remind  you  of  your  friend  Helen,"  said  the  Gentle 
man  in  Black  ;  "  we  have  quite  forgotten  her,  all  this  while." 

"  Oh  !  she  was  a  lovely  girl;  her  education  had  been  most  care 
fully  conducted,  and  she  was  then  a  hard  student,  and  ambitious 
of  still  greater  acquisitions.  As  I  became  better  acquainted  with 
her,  I  loved  her  more  and  more,  and  I  was  soon  a  frequent  visitor 
at  her  father's  house.  He  was  a  merchant,  full  of  business,  and 
had  no  leisure  or  inclination  to  participate  with  his  wife  in  her 
1  moonshine,'  as  he  playfully  termed  it.  It  seemed  to  make  her 
happy,  and  he  was  content.  He  wanted  to  share  in  the  society 
of  his  child,  and  took  great  pleasure  in  her  performance  on  the 
piano,  and  by  constant  application,  she  became  a  most  splendid 
pianist.  She  was  affianced  to  a  young  lawyer,  of  the  highest 

*  For  Prof.  Agassiz's  opinion  of  this  work,  see  Appendix,  Note  K. 
17 


258  PETER  SCHLEMIHL. 

reputation  as  a  writer  and  advocate,  whom  she  loved  with  the 
whole  passion  of  her  soul,  and  yet,  as  I  discovered  afterwards, 
this  was  kept  in  severe  abeyance  in  its  manifestations,  from  a 
humiliating  consciousness  of  his  mental  superiority.  To  render 
herself  worthy  of  his  love,  seemed  the  absorbing  wish  and  pas 
sion  of  her  very  being. 

"  To  go  on  with  my  narrative.  I  was  very  regular  in  my  at 
tendance  on  the  coterie  of  inquirers,  and  heard  some  strange  things, 
as  they  seemed  to  me,  but  I  was  a  learner,  and  said  as  little  as  I 
well  could.  I  was  told  '  Good  is  positive.  Evil  is  merely  priva 
tive,  not  absolute.  It  is  like  cold,  which  is  the  absence  of  heat.'* 
'There  is  no  doctrine  of  the  reason  which  will  bear  to  be  taught 
by  the  understanding.'!  This  last  aphorism  perplexed  me  not  a 
little;  it  seemed  to  make  the  brain  a  sort  of  pandemonium  where 
all  was  conflict,  instead  of  the  unity  I  had  once  supposed  to  ex 
ist.  Then  as  to  the  Miracles,  I  was  told  everything  was  mira 
culous,  and  that '  the  very  word  Miracle,  as  pronounced  by  Chris 
tian  Churches,  gives  a  false  impression ;  it  is  a  Monster.  It  is 
not  one  with  blowing  clover,  and  the  falling  rain'.'J  This  was  a 
very  ready  way  to  get  rid  of  all  the  stumbling-blocks  of  the  Bible, 
by  making  the  raising  of  the  dead  and  the  raising  a  crop  of  corn, 
equally  miraculous.  There  seemed  to  me,  however,  a  screw 
loose  in  this  system  of  logic.  I  was  told,  that  '  the  prayers  and 
even  the  dogmas  of  the  Christian  Church,  are  like  the  zodiac  of 
Denderah,  and  the  astronomical  monuments  of  the  Hindoos, 
wholly  insulated  from  anything  now  extant  in  the  life  and  busi 
ness  of  the  people.  They  now  mark  the  height  to  which  the 
waters  oncarose.'§ 

"  And  yet,  by  some  strange  inconsistency  of  language,  as  it  ap-, 
peared  to  me,  these  ladies  were  fond  of  conveying  their  oracles 
in  a  language,  in  which  the  old  forms  of  thought  constantly  ap 
peared,  and  created  no  little  confusion  in  my  mind,  from  these  be 
ing  thus  made  to  clothe  their  new  theology,  as  for  example,  *  the 
deep  things  of  God  being  searched  out  by  the  spirit ;'  the  words 
'  spiritual  experience  ;'  *  the  penalty  of  the  law  ;'  '  one  with 
God ;'  '  the  presence  of  God  in  the  soul ;'  '  salvation  by  good 
ness,  in  and  for  and  by  itself,  not  of  works,  but  goodness,  from 
whence  good  works  flow  ;'||  which  seemed  very  Pauline  in  its 
sound,  though  there  was,  doubtless,  very  little  of  Paul  in  its  inten 
tion.  '  Salvation  by  grace,  or  the  presence  of  God  in  the  soul,' 
sounded  too  much  like  the  New  Testament ;  but  not  so  much  so, 
as  the  recurrence  of  the  quotation :  '  The  kingdom  of  heaven  is 

*  Rev.  Ralph  Waldo  Emerson's  Address  before  the  Senior  Class  in  the 
Divinity  School,  Cambridge,  delivered  on  Sunday  evening,  July  15,  1838,  p.  7. 
f  Ibid.,  p.  12.  J  Ibid.,  p.  12. 

§  Emerson's  Sermon,  p.  21.  ||  Studies  in  Religion. 


TRANSCENDENTAL  PHILOSOPHY.  259 

within  you ;'  and  the  '  inner-life,'  which  was  a  favorite  phrase. 
But  if  I  was  perplexed  with  seeing  old  clothes  thus  worn  by 
stranger-forms,  I  was  all  amazement  at  the  chaos  of  words  which 
came  thundering  down  upon  me,  with  all  the  unexpectedness 
of  hail-stones  out  of  a  clear  sky,  and  lay  before  me  like  Torsos 
of  Titans,  vast  in  their  proportions  and  grand  even  in  fragments, 
but  which  required  some  Michael  Angelo  to  reproduce  or  recon 
struct  in  all  their  transcendental  magnificence. 

"  And  I  feared  to  inquire  what  was  concealed  under  these  ma 
jestic  forms  of  thought,  for  it  was  more  than  insinuated  *  that  the 
majority  of  educated  and  reflecting  men  and  women  were  pos 
sessed  of  minds  so  unlike  their  own,  that  they  doubted  their 
power  of  constructing  a  bridge,  which  would  serve  for  the  trans 
mission  of  ideas  to  persons  so  little  fitted  to  receive  them.' ': 

"Can't  you  give  me  a  specimen?"  asked  the  Gentleman  in 
Black. 

"  Oh  yes,  many  ;  but  I  will  give  one  merely.  Speaking  on  this 
very  subject,  one  of  our  most  gifted  instructors  said:  '  He  who 
is  incapable  of  enthusiasm  for  the  pure  and  the  lofty,  whose  heart 
is  not  filled  with  the  greatest,  great  as  it  may  be  ;  he  may  possess 
the  most  excellent  gifts  for  other  departments  of  life  and  science, 
but,  it  is  clear  he  was  not  born  for  a  theologian.  The  theolo 
gian,  unless  he  remains  in  the  outworks  of  science,  has  to  do 
with  the  most  sublime  objects  ;  and  how  can  a  degraded  soul, 
dead  to  the  impressions  from  the  eternal,  be  happy  in  the  con 
templation  of  divine  things  ?'* 

"I  discovered,  after  a  while,  that  the  Baconian  mode  of  philo 
sophizing  was  regarded  as  obsolete — induction  was  a  slow  pro 
cess,  and  the  results  were  uncertain  and  imperfect.  That  general 
truths  were  to  be  attained  without  the  previous  examination  of 
particulars,  by  the  aid  of  a  higher  power  than  the  understanding. 
'  The  hand-lamp  of  logic'  was  laid  aside,  for  the  truths  which  are 
felt  are  more  satisfactory  and  certain  than  those  which  are  proved. 
That  the  sphere  of  intuition  was  enlarged,  and  made  to  compre 
hend,  not  only  mathematical  axioms,  but  the  most  abstruse  and 
elevated  propositions  respecting  the  being  and  destiny  of  man. 
Pure  intelligence  usurped  the  place  of  humble  research,  and  hid 
den  meanings,  glimpses  of  spiritual  and  everlasting  truth  were 
found,  where  former  observers  sought  only  for  natural  facts. 

"  That  the  observation  of  sensible  phenomena  can  only  lead  to 
the  discovery  of  insulated,  partial  and  relative  laws,  but  the  con 
sideration  of  the  same  phenomena  in  a  typical  point  of  view,  may 
lead  us  to  an  infinite  and  absolute  truth — to  a  knowledge  of  the 

*  "Oilman's  Aphorisms :  and  Ullman  is  not  a  hyper-Transcendentalist 


260  PETER  SCHLEMIHL. 

reality  of  things,*  and,  above  all,  that  the  true  Shekinah  was 


"  One  morning  a  lady  was  present,  who  was  introduced  as  Mrs. 
Margaret  Elgin.  She  resided  in  the  city  of  the  Pilgrims,  and  was 
possessed  of  a  strong  bias  for  the  old  ways  of  Unitarianism. 
Mrs.  Elgin  was  on  a  visit  to  the  lady  at  whose  house  we  met  on 
that  day,  and  of  course,  was  invited  to  be  present,  and  the  ladies, 
after  the  usual  courtesies  of  society,  opened  the  conversation  of 
the  morning,  by  asking  this  lady,  whose  aspects  were  those  of 
great  goodness  and  intelligence,  *  What  progress  was  making  in 
the  advancement  of  spiritual  religion  in  her  city?' 

"  'Alas!'  replied  the  lady,  "  we  are  getting  on  not  faster  than 
crabs  ;  we  are  on  a  backward  movement,  and  where  we  shall 
bring  up,  I  don't  exactly  see.' 

"  '  Indeed,'  said  a  young  lady  next  me,  '  in  what  particulars 
does  this  retrograde  movement  consist?'  and  she  looked  at  me,  as 
if  amused  with  what  would  chance  to  follow. 

"  '  Why,  my  dear,'  replied  the  lady,  '  I  have  been  living  not 
quite  the  life  of  an  oyster,  but  busy  with  my  boys  and  girls  ; 
sewing  on  a  button  for  my  husband,  and  taking  "  a  stitch  in  time," 
to  keep  my  boys'  trowsers  from  falling  to  the  ground  in  an  unex 
pected  moment,  till  my  seamstress  could  give  their  waistbands 
more  thorough  repair,  so  I  have  not  kept  up  with  the  progress  of 
improvement;  and  every  Sabbath  I  have  listened  to  an  old  mi 
nister,  who  has  been  our  pastor  for  thirty  years.  So  you  may 
guess  my  surprise  when  my  husband  bought  Mr.  Emerson's  ad 
dress,  and  told  me  there  was  a  specimen  of  the  new  theology  that 
was  coming  into  fashion,  or  as  he  called  it,  out  of  the  book,  the 
new  "  Cultus"  which  was  to  be  established  among  us.  I  thought 
it  time  for  me  to  look  about  me,  and  see  where  I  was,  and  with 
whom  I  was  living.' 

"  *  And  what  did  you  find,  madam  ?'  asked  the  young  lady. 

"  '  Why,  I  confess  to  you,  ladies,  my  surprise  was  infinite,  when 
I  was  told  "  that  there  was  no  personal  Deity,"  but  that  the  true 
divinity  was  within  me.  That  sin  and  depravity  are  but  skin- 
deep,  and  strike  off  some  of  that  which  was  extraneous,  and  all 
is  beautiful  within,  nay,  Godlike  !  for  why  should  it  not  be  god 
like,  since  it  is  a  part  of  Deity  itself?  Now  all  this  was  wonder 
ful  enough,  but  not  all  the  wonders  I  was  destined  to  learn.  As 
a  mother  of  five  boys  and  four  girls,  and  fine  boys  and  girls  they 
are  !  but  with  whose  waywardness  and  passions  I  had  learned 

*   Christian  Examiner,  January,  1837. 

t  This  sentence  is  quoted  by  Carlyle,  "  Sartor  Resartus,"  from  St.  Chrysos- 
tom,  whose  "  lips  of  gold"  are  commended,  and  who  doubtless  used  it  in  a 
very  different  sense  from  Mr.  Carlyle. 


THE  NEOLOGISTS  OF  NEW  ENGLAND.  261 

the  doctrine  of  man's  native  depravity,  in  ten  thousand  ways,  I 
was  told,  "  that  childhood  is  not  only  innocent,  but  that  my  ba 
bies  were  so  many  Messiahs  !"  "  That  all  infants  were  prophets  !" 
As  prophets,  I  must  say,  they  were  sometimes  sadly  at  longer- 
heads  with  each  other,  and  but  for  my  presence,  would  oftentimes 
have  pulled  each  other's  heads  off  their  shoulders.  Nor  was  this 
all — "  That  we  must  pray  to  the  Deity  within  us,  and  that  all 
other  prayer  was  mockery,"  and  lastly,  "  that  the  belief  in  an  ex 
ternal  heaven,  and  an  external  hell,  was  little  better  than  to  believe 
in  Salem  witchcraft."  And,  as  you  may  guess,  the  Bible  has  be 
come  an  obsolete  book  with  these  new  theologians,  and  though  it 
is  said — "  The  Hebrew  and  Greek  Scriptures  contain  immortal 
sentences,  that  have  been  the  bread  of  life  to  millions,  but  they 
have  no  epical  integrity;  are  fragmentary;  are  not  shown  in 
their  order  to  the  intellect;"*  we  are  taught  by  the  modern 
Socrates,  "  to  look  for  a  new  Teacher,  that  shall  follow  so  far 
those  shining  laws,  that  he  shall  see  them  come  full  circle ;  shall 
see  their  rounding  complete  grace ;  shall  see  the  world  to  be  the 
mirror  of  the  soul;  shall  see  the  identity  of  the  law  of  gravitation 
with  purity  of  heart;  and  shall  show  that  the  Ought,  that  Duty, 
is  one  thing  with  Science,  with  Beauty  and  with  Joy."t 

"  '  Now  ladies,  you  may  perhaps  wish  to  know  when  this  new 
preacher  is  to  arise ;  but  of  this  I  can  give  you  no  knowledge. 
Some  do  say,  that  there  are  better  Pauls  and  better  Jesuses  now, 
than  any  we  read  of;  and  I  have  had  some  of  these  errants  of 
the  pulpit  pointed  out  as  examples  of  these  important  announce 
ments  ;  but  for  my  part,  I  believe  I  shall  hold  on  to  the  old-school 
theology,  flog  my  boys,  and  run  the  risk  of  offending  some  new 
born  divinity.  Solomon  with  all  his  sins,  I  prefer  to  Ralph.' 

"  It  was  impossible  not  to  be  amused  with  this  lady,  who  was 
so  honest  and  earnest  in  her  adherence  to  the  well-tried  system 
of  divinity  and  education;  but  there  was  evidently  a  growing  de 
sire  to  see  how  far  common  sense  could  stand  the  conflict  of  trans 
cendental  philosophy. 

"  A  lady  asked,  '  if  these  new  views  were  not  destined  to  be 
opposed  very  warmly.' 

"  The  ladV  replied,  *  that  Professor  Norton  had  at  last  come 
out  of  his  study  to  cast  a  horoscope,  and  see  which  way  the 
world  was  going ;  and  had  evidently  been  surprised  to  find,  that 
while  he  was  at  work  consolidating  the  evidences  of  Christianity, 
on  a  basis  which  would  be  permanent  as  the  everlasting  hills, 
the  whole  aspect  of  the  heavens  had  changed.  His  work  was 
of  no  value.  Whether  the  Gospels  were  true  or  false,  was 

*  Rev.  Mr.  Emerson's  Address,  p.  31.  f  Ibid->  P.  31. 


262  PETER  SCHLEMIHL. 

now  a  matter  of  no  moment,  his  theological  pupils  had  found  out 
a  shorter  cut  at  certainty  in  divinity ;  had  told  him,  that  a  Christi 
anity  which  required  to  be  proved,  was  every  way  worthless, 
mere  musty  historical  parchment,  already  time-worn,  and  the 
sooner  it  was  cast  to  the  dogs  the  better.  The  poor  doctor  was 
at  his  wits'-end,  his  years  of  labor  all  superseded,  and  so  he  has,' 
continued  the  lady,  with  a  good-natured  laugh,  '  issued  a  sort  of 
proclamation,*  in  which  he  declares  that  they  are  all  "  Infidels 
and  Atheists — that  there  is  at  present  in  New  England  no  Uni 
tarian  body  held  together  by  any  community  of  belief  or  purpose. 
That  the  name  has  been  so  extended,  as  to  comprehend  individu 
als  whose  opinions,  respecting  what  is  essential  in  religion,  are 
directly  opposite  to  the  opinions  of  those  by  whom  it  was  for 
merly  held,  and  has  therefore  lost  all  meaning.  *  *  *  * 
Whether  for  good  or  evil,  the  Unitarian  party  is  broken  up ;  the 
name  has  become  a  name  of  suspicion.  *  *  *  *  Men  of  honor 
able  feelings  will  regard  it  as  a  gross  deception,  or  as  a  strange 
hallucination,  for  any  one  to  pretend  to  be  a  minister  of  Christ, 
while  he  disbelieves  that  Christianity  is  a  miraculous  dispensa 
tion."  And  Professor  Ware  has  come  to  his  help,  and  has  pub 
lished  a  letter,!  in  which  he  comforts  the  theological  Professor,  by 
saying,  "  this  state  of  things  might  seem  a  matter  of  no  great  con 
cern,  a  mere  insurrection  of  folly,  a  sort  of  Jack  Cade  rebellion, 
which  in  the  nature  of  things  must  soon  be  put  down,  if  those 
engaged  in  it  were  not  gathering  confidence  from  neglect,  and 
had  not  proceeded  to  attack  principles  which  are  the  foundation 
of  human  society  and  human  happiness."  And  now,  my  dear 
ladies,  you  will  pardon  me  for  repeating  his  compliment  to  our 
sex  ;  but  if  you  want  to  know  the  news  of  our  religious  world, 
you  must  bear  with  me,  and  forbear  with  the  Professor.' 

"  '  By  all  means,' — '  Certainly,' — '  Let's  have  it,'  exclaimed 
the  circle. 

44  '  It  is  not  very  kind  of  him,'  continued  the  lady  smiling,  *  but 
he  found  it  in  his  heart  to  speak  of  us  in  a  very  Paul-like  phrase, 
"  silly  women,  it  has  been  said,  and  young  men,  it  is  to  be  feared, 
have  been  drawn  away  from  their  Christian  faith,  if  not  divorced 
from  all  that  can  properly  be  called  religion."! 

"  *  You  see,  ladies,  the  silly  women  are  still  the  leaders  in  this 
new  attempt  to  gather  the  apples  from  the  tree  of  knowledge — 
it  is  somewhat  new  for  us,  to  become  leaders  of  an  insurrection 
of  any  sort,  but  Prof.  Ware  assures  us  of  our  right  and  title  to 
this  bad  "eminence,"  of  being  the  "movement  party,"  as  they  say 

*  See  Appendix  B.  for  the  explanation  of  this  lady's  remarks, 
f  See  Appendix  E.  for  the  letter  here  referred  to. 


263 

in  France,  in  this  Jack  Cade  rebellion  against  the  orthodoxy  of 
Unitarianism.  "  Silly  women,  it  is  believed,"  mark  that !  "  and 
silly  young  men,  it  is  to  be  feared,  have  been  drawn  away  from 
their  Christian  faith."  Alas  i  for  us  poor  women,  we  are  always 
in  the  wrong  ;  always  first  in  transgression  !' 

" '  And  is  that  all  ?'  said  the  young  lady  near  me. 

"  '  My  dear,  I'm  sure  it  is  quite  a  good  deal,'  replied  the  lady, 
in  a  tone  of  surprise. 

"  'Silly  women!'  repeated  a  lady  somewhat  advanced; — the 
only  lady  unmarried  on  the  shady  side  of  life  of  our  coterie. 

"  What  might  have  followed  I  know  not,  for  Mrs.  Percy  now 
addressed  Mrs.  Elgin,  and  asked  if  Prof.  Norton  had  not  him 
self  laid  the  basis  for  this  religious  development,  in  the  very  prin 
ciples  stated  by  him  in  the  work  she  referred  to,  and  also  in  the 
lectures  he  had  delivered  before  the  divinity  students. 

"  *  Indeed  I  don't  know,'  replied  the  lady.  '  He  lives  among 
the  shades  of  the  University,  and  in  the  seclusion  of  his  own 
study,  whilst  I  am  in  the  busy  pursuit  of  crying  babies,  and  rest 
less,  reckless  children.  Here's  a  bump  on  one  head  which  must 
have  its  patch  of  brown  paper  dipt  in  brandy, — another's  nose 
has  fallen  to  bleeding,  and  wants  the  door-key  put  down  his 
back,  to  stop  the  bleeding — and  then  in  comes  a  girl  whose  petti 
coat,  spic-span  new  when  she  sat  out  for  school,  has  by  some 
strange  combination  of  circumstances  been  transformed  into  a 
trail  of  no  very  reputable  appearance,  a  yard  long.  So  you  see, 
my  dear  Mrs.  Percy,  while  the  professor  has  been  engaged  in  his 
studies  into  the  nature  of  spirit,  I  have  been  absorbed  by  the  adi 
pose  parts  of  organic  life — our  spheres  have  been  distinct — while 
he  has  directed  his  energies  to  give  activity  to  the  lobes  of  the 
brain,  mine  have  not  as  yet  reached  half  so  high.' 

"  Though  Mrs.  Percy  smiled  very  amiably,  she  was  not  ready 
to  let  the  subject  drop.  '  Professor  Norton  has  no  right  to  give 
his  pupils  the  cognomen  of"  infidels  of  the  latest  forms,"  without 
asking,  if  his  own  teachings  have  not  led  to  this  as  a  necessary 
and  most  legitimate  consequence.  As  professor  of  theology,  he 
has,  as  I  am  told  by  very  good  authority,  taught  skepticism  as  to 
the  inspiration  and  veracity  of  the  Bible,  in  both  its  divisions — 
the  new  as  well  as  the  old.  Now,  if  the  Bible  be  placed  on  a 
level  with  any  and  all  other  books,  we  must  build  up  our  forms 
of  science  as  best  we  may,  from  such  sources  from  without  and 
within,  as  we  may  be  possessed  of;  and  the  true  question  to  be 
settled,  and  to  which  he  should  have  addressed  himself,  is  this, — 
such  being  the  sources  of  knowledge,  is  the  system  he  denounces, 
most  accordant  with  the  Reason  or  not?  Those  who  believe  in 
the  inspiration  and  integrity  of  the  Scriptures,  have  a  basis  to 


264  PETER  SCHLEMIHL. 

stand  on,  which  is  impregnable.  To  such  it  is  sufficient  for  them 
to  point  to  a  text,  and  to  say,  "  Thus  saith  the  Lord" — but  not  so 
these  gentlemen  who  have  dug  down  the  foundation  of  the  faith 
of  their  fathers,  and  still  demand  the  Church  shall  stand  on  the 
few  stones  they  have  left  unshaken,  or  upon  the  piles  they  have 
driven  down,  to  hold  it  up.  And  though  I  am  one  of  those  "silly 
women"  Dr.  Ware  has  spoken  of,  I  should  say  all  this  to  the 
doctor,  if  he  were  sitting  in  your  chair.' 

"  '  Well,  dear  Mrs.  Percy,'  replied  the  lady,  'I  don't  mean  to 
take  either  the  doctor's  or  the  professor's  place  in  this  discussion; 
but  if  the  professor  has  been  sowing  dragon's  teeth,  he  should 
not  make  such  an  outcry  at  the  unruly  spirits  who  seem  now  to 
haunt  him  of  his  peace.  And,  I  assure  you,  that  we  have  had  no 
little  perplexity  in  the  coteries  of  our  city,  for  while  our  theolo 
gians  were  thus  awaking  to  the  fierceness  of  a  polemical  conflict, 
our  "  Mutual  Admiration  Society,"  of  which  they  were  honorary 
members,  were  in  dismay,  not  knowing  which  side  to  take  in  the 
affray.' 

"  'Mutual  Admiration  Society!'  exclaimed  our  ladies.  'What 
society  is  this  ?' 

"  '  Is  it  possible,'  said  the  Mrs.  Elgin,  '  that  you  have  never 
heard  of  it?' 

"  '  Never  !  never !'  was  repeated  by  all  the  circle. 

"  '  Indeed  !  that's  very  odd  !  The  society,  I  am  aware,  has 
had  its  origin  in  our  city;  but  it  has  worked  so  well  with  us, 
that  I  had  supposed  it  must  have  extended  over  the  whole  land.' 

"  '  Do,  pray,  tell  us  all  about  it,'  said  the  ladies. 

"  '  It  is  very  simple  in  its  organization,'  replied  the  good-na- 
.tured  lady,  with  a  laugh,  'and  admits  of  no  possible  conflict 
among  its  members.  It  is  just  this :  "  you  tickle  me  and  I'll 
tickle  you ;"  and  originated  in  this  way.  Some  few  years-since, 
a  "  rising  young  man,"  not  finding  himself  getting  up  in  the  world 
as  fast  as  the  aspirations  of  his  ambition  prompted  him  to  rise, 
ventured  to  create  a  little  public  opinion  on  his  own  behalf,  as  it 
was  affirmed  by  his  political  opponents,  and  generally  believed  by 
the  public.  The  articles  appeared  in  one  of  our  papers,  and  were 
traced,  so  it  was  said,  to  his  own  door:  the  good  people  of  Essex 
were  indignant  at  this  attempt  to  lead  them  by  the  nose,  and  the 
poor  young  man  was  bound  over  to  his  good  behavior  for  several 
years,  before  they  would  consent  to  call  him  into  public  life.  It 
became  necessary,  therefore,  to  organize  this  society,  for  mutual 
aid  and  support;  for  what  one  may  not  do  for  himself,  may  be 
done  for  him  by  a  friend,  and  this  is  done  to  the  admiration  of 
our  good  people,  who  are  too  busy  to  form  their  own  opinions, 


265 

and  so  take  them  manufactured  to  their  hand.  Now,  whenever 
one  of  our  "  rising  men"  blows  up  a  soap-bubble,  all  the  mem 
bers  stand  ready  to  give  it  a  puff,  till  the  bubble  is  high  in  air, 
glowing  with  all  the  hues  and  dyes  of  the  sun  of  popular  ap 
plause.  'Tis  true,  they  sometimes  burst  up  at  once,  but  gene 
rally  they  hold  on  till  they  are  lost  sight  of — which  is  very  soon.' 

"  'My  dear  madam,'  said  Mrs.  Percy,'  'do  talk  a  little  plain 
English,  that  we  may  understand  you.' 

"  *  How  can  you  ask  such  a  thing,'  replied  the  lady,  '  of  one 
who  comes  from  the  atmosphere  of  idealism  ?' 

"  *  Do,  please,  give  an  example,'  said  Mrs.  Percy. 

"  *  Well,  then,  we  will  suppose  one  of  our  highly  talented 
scholars,  distinguished  for  the  brilliancy  of  his  imagination  and 
the  vastness  of  his  attainments,  is  selected  to  deliver  a  Phi-Beta- 
Kappa  oration,  which  must  contain,  as  a  matter  of  course,  a  full 
share  of  admiration  for  all  the  honorary  members  of  the  society, 
dead  and  living  ;  "  soft  sawder,"  as  Sam  Slick  would  say ;  the 
society  instantly  commence  their  labors,  through  the  press,  and 
the  corresponding  members  in  all  the  commonwealth  re-echo  the 
admiration,  till  the  whole  press  is  literally  saturated  with  eulogy. 

"  *  I  have  thought  it  strange  that  all  this  thunder  seemed  bot 
tled  up,  like  the  winds  of  Boreas,  and  that  we  never  heard  any 
reverberations  from  the  press  of  Babylon  ;  but  I  now  understand 
it  as  being  only  *'  adapted  for  family  use  and  home  consumption." 
They  sometimes  do  seek  a  wider  range  than  the  newspapers  of 
the  State,  though  this  is  not  often  attempted.  My  husband  is 
furious  whenever  he  sees  any  of  the  "  hoofs,"  as  he  delights  to 
call  them,  of  these  young  lions  imprinted  in  the  newspaper,  and 
dashes  the  paper  into  the  fire ;  and,  the  other  day,  he  was  read 
ing  the  North  American  Review,  when,  all  at  once,  he  tore  out  a 
dozen  pages  and  crammed  them  into  the  grate.  I  cried  out 
against  such  sacrilege,  and  begged  him  to  desist,  for  I  had  not 
read  it.  "  Nor  do  I  mean  you  shall — a  set  of  squirts!"  was  his 
rough  review  of  the  reviewers.  But  he  is  getting  old,  and  swears 
he  won't  be  humbugged;  and  solemnly  affirms  that  these 
"young  lions"  are,  after  all,  only  counterfeits,  and  that  if  their 
"caudal  appendages"  can  be  hid,  their  ears  can't.' 

"'My  dear  Mrs.  Elgin,'  said  Mrs.  Percy,  'you  delight  to 
speak  your  dark  sayings  in  parables.' 

"  '  Very  true,  my  dear  madam ;  but,  you  see,  this  is  a  delicate 
subject,  and  needs  to  be  handled  very  gingerly.' 

"  '  To  recur  to  the  topic  we  were  speaking  of,'  said  Mrs. 
Percy.  '  You  will  understand,  I  do  not  speak  of  this  matter  to 
you,'  said  Mrs.  Percy,  addressing  Mrs.  Elgin,  'in  the  spirit  of 


266  PETER  SCHLEMIHL. 

controversy;  but,  to  show  the  facts  in  the  case,  I  will  read  to 
you,  from  a  book  I  have  in  my  hand,  a  quotation  from  Professor 
Norton.'  She  read  as  follows — 

"  '  For  myself  in  regard  to  the  Old  Testament,  though  I  believe 
the  divine  origin  of  the  Mosaic  Dispensation,  I  regard  the  Pen 
tateuch  as  a  book  full  of  fables,  compiled  after  the  captivity,  and 
the  other  historical  books  as  having  no  more  claim  to  be  divinely 
inspired  than  the  histories  of  Eusebius  and  his  successors.  In 
the  prophecies,  as  they  are  called,  there  are  noble  conceptions  of 
religion  and  duty,  (considering  the  times  in  which  they  were 
written  ;)  but  I  do  not  believe  that  their  authors  claimed  a  mira 
culous  power  of  predicting  future  events,  or  were  supposed  by 
their  cotemporaries  to  possess  it.  When  we  come  to  the  New 
Testament,  I  put  the  highest  value  on  the  Gospels,  as  an  authen 
tic  record  of  the  ministry  of  Jesus,  and  regard  with  strong  in 
terest  the  writings  of  Paul,  as  exhibiting  in  the  most  striking 
manner  the  workings  of  a  powerful  and  admirable  mind  under  an 
all-pervading  conviction  of  the  truth  of  Christianity.  But  I 
ascribe  the  authorship  of  neither  the  Gospels  nor  the  epistles  to 
God,  and  cannot  call  them  in  any  sense  the  word  of  God.'* 

"  '  Now,  my  dear  madam,'  said  Mrs.  Percy,  laying  the  pam 
phlet  in  her  lap, '  do  you  not  wonder  that  Professor  Norton,  having 
uttered  such  sentiments,  could  call  any  of  his  scholars  infidels  ? 
Well  may  Mr.  Ripley  say,  when  speaking  of  such  sentiments  in 
his  letter  to  Professor  Norton  :  "  To  a  large  majority  of  Christians, 
this  language  will  appear  like  gross  infidelity.  I  leave  it  to  the 
candid  Christian  community,"  he  says,  "  whether  such  a  writer  is 
authorized  to  accuse  his  brethren  of  infidelity.'  "t 

"  '  That  is  rather  a  tight  place  for  the  Professor,  certainly,  and 
I  shall  let  him  get  out  as  best  he  may,'  replied  the  lady  ;  '  but, 
my  dear  Mrs.  Percy,  for  my  own  part,  I  soon  gave  up  the  chase 
for  this  ignis-fatuus,  called  truth,  and  have  made  up  my  mind 
to  hold  on  to  the  whole  Bible  as  the  word  of  God  ;  and  as  my 
children  must  be  taught  the  principles  of  a  religion  of  some  sort, 
in  looking  over  the  drawer  of  my  precious  grandmother,  whose 
piety  was  to  my  childhood  the  very  form  and  pressure  of  angeli 
cal  goodness,  I  found  a  primer  covered  with  brocade-silk,  and 
carefully  tied  with  a  ribbon.  It  was  a  "  Westminster  Catechism," 
and  I  am  teaching  it,  to  the  best  of  my  ability,  to  my  children.' 

"  The  astonishment  this  created  was  electric,  and  more  than 
one  exclaimed,  '  The  Westminster  Catechism  !' 

*  So  cited  in  New  Englander,  Quarterly  Review  for  April,  1810,  p.  257. 
t  Rev.  George  Ripley's  Letters  on  "  Latest  form  of  Infidelity,"  Boston,  1840, 
p.  36. 


MRS.  MARGARET  ELGIN'S  NURSERY.  267 

"  '  Yes,  my  dear  friends,  and  I  only  wish  it  was  better  known, 
and  more  thoroughly  studied,  and  that  our  lives  were  imbued 
with  its  grand  truths.  I  think  the  children  might  become  some 
what  like  the  pilgrim-fathers,  whose  virtues  shine  forth  in  the 
4th  of  July  orations,  while  the  great  religious  principles,  which 
constituted  them  the  founders  of  the  Republic,  are,  fifty-two  days 
in  the  year,  certainly,  and  perhaps  oftener,  treated  with  most 
manifest  coolness,  to  say  nothing  more.' 

"  '  My  dear  madam,'  asked  Mrs.  Percy,  '  do  you  understand 
that  Catechism?' 

"  '  I  think  I  get  a  glimpse  or  two  of  its  meaning,'  replied  the 
lady,  'and  since  some  people  have  turned  the  Bible  out  of  doors, 
I  have  taken  it  into  my  chamber,  and  I  find  it  a  most  marvellous 
book,  so  well  adapted  to  the  wants  and  ways  of  men,  so  full  of 
most  attractive  narrative,  and  then  with  such  hopes  of  heaven ! 
Indeed  you  would  be  delighted  to  see  my  children  around  me, 
those  who  can't  read,  requesting  me  to  tell  them  Bible  stories. 
To  my  dear  children,  these  have  all  the  charm  a  new  Waverley 
novel  once  had  for  me,  in  my  young  days.  Let  others  do  as 
they  please,  "my  book  and  heart  shall  never  part.11 

"Mrs.  Percy  could  not  but  smile,  to  hear  the  lady  give  proof 
of  her  proficiency  in  the  primer,  whatever  might  be  the  extent  of 
her  studies  of  the  Scriptures.  For  myself,  I  could  not  but 
envy  her  the  happiness  of  all  her  boys  and  girls  ;  and  saw  her, 
happy  and  joyous,  overflowing  with  love,  sitting  with  all  these 
little  folks  around  her,  teaching  them  '  who  was  the  first  man,' 
and  *  who  the  first  woman,'  and  those  ancient  lyrics  of  two  lines 
each,  or  perhaps,  pointing  out  to  them  the  martyrdom  of  the 
blessed  John  Rogers,  and  all  setting  their  heads  together  to 
count  the  children  in  the  picture,  to  see  if  there  were  really  ten 
or  nine,  including  '  one  at  the  breast.'  '  Mrs.  Smith  sighed,  and 
for  an  instant  forgot  her  story,  and  looked  pensively  at  the  beauti 
ful  foot,  which  was  being  gently  tossed  as  if  a  child  was  in  her  ima 
gination  riding  on  its  toe ;  but  recollecting  herself,  she  went  on : 

"  As  there  was  nothing  to  be  said  further,  on  the  topics  for 
which  we  met,  I  took  leave  of  the  circle  ;  and  as  I  drove  home, 
I  forgot  everything  but  the  laughter-loving  mother,  and  her  boys 
with  their  broken  heads  and  brown  paper  patches,  and  girls  with 
their  new  fashioned  trails,  made  of  spic-span  new  petticoats. 

"  The  Sabbath  following  our  interview  with  this  lady  from  the 
City  of  the  Pilgrims,  she  attended  at  our  church,  and  we  had  one 
of  those  beautiful  discourses  which  are  full  of  grand  and  undefined 
conceptions  of  the  ideal ;  the  preacher  was  eminently  felicitous, 
as  I  thought,  in  the  discovery  of  the  real  under  the  aspects  worn 


268  PETER  SCHLEMIHL. 

by  the  apparent;  and,  after  church,  Mrs.  Percy,  and  the  lady, 
and  myself,  walked  homeward  together. 

'*  '  What  did  you  think  of  the  sermon  ?'  inquired  Mrs.  Percy 
of  the  lady. 

"  '  Dear  Mrs.  Percy,'  said  the  lady,  *  I  could  make  nothing  at 
all  of  it;  and  I  was  thinking,  as  he  went  along,  if  old  Deacon 
Pilsbury,  of  Newbury,  was  alive,  and  had  been  present,  lie  would 
have  been  constrained  to  get  up,  as  he  once  did,  when  one  of  the 
new  divinity  men  of  his  day,  whom  we  should  now  style  an  Or 
thodox  Unitarian,  had  preached  a  sermon  in  his  meeting-house, 
and  would  have  cried  out,  '*  Peas  in  a  bladder,  brethren !  peas  in 
a  bladder!  No  food  for  my  soul  this  day." 

"  I  laughed  outright,  but  Mrs.  Percy  was  evidently  displeased, 
and  our  place  of  parting  having  arrived,  I  bid  the  ladies  good- 
morning. 

"  The  next  day  I  called  to  see  Helen,  who  had  been  confined 
by  sickness  to  her  house,  and  was  telling  her  the  anecdote,  when 
Mrs.  Percy  came  in.  The  conversation  turned  upon  Mrs.  Elgin, 
and  her  communications  as  made  to  us  at  our  last  meeting. 

"  '  This  lady,'  said  Mrs.  Percy,  '  is  a  fair  specimen  of  the  or 
thodoxy  of  Unitarianism.  The  development  of  new  views  of 
religious  science  frightens  them,  and  they  retreat  back  upon  opi 
nions  venerable  for  their  antiquity,  fearful  to  go  forward  to  follow 
out  the  legitimate  consequences  of  their  own  received  opinions.' 

"  '  Do  you  think,  Mrs.  Percy,'  I  asked,  '  that  our  views  will 
ever  be  generally  received  by  the  multitude  ?' 

"  '  No,  my  dear,'  she  replied,  'few  are  capable  of  the  mental 
discipline  which  will  enable  them  to  grasp  the  great  truths  of 
true  science.  The  ancient  philosophers  felt  this,  and  followed 
the  example  of  the  priests  of  Egypt  in  hiding  their  highest  forms 
of  thought  behind  the  veil  of  mysteries.  As  to  the  Unitarianism 
of  the  Old  School,  it  is  already  effete  in  the  opinion  of  those  who 
first  set  the  ball  in  motion.  I  have  seen  a  letter  from  Dr.  Chan- 
ning,  addressed  to  J.  Blanco  White,  in  which  he  breathes  his 
aspirations  for  progress  in  religious  reformation.  He  says,  "  It 
is  not  by  assailing  the  low  in  practice  or  principle,  but  by  mani 
festing  the  high,  that  the  great  work  of  reformation  is  to  go  on. 
Whence  shall  this  force  come  ?  I  would  that  I  could  look  on 
Unitarianism  with  more  hope.  But  this  system  was,  at  its  re 
cent  revival,  a  protest  of  the  understanding  against  absurd  dog 
mas,  rather  than  the  work  of  deep  religious  principle,  and  was 
early  paralyzed  by  the  mixture  of  a  material  philosophy,  and  fell 
too  much  into  the  hands  of  scholars  and  political  reformers;  and 
the  consequence  is,  a  want  of  vitality  and  force,  which  gives  us 
little  hope  of  its  accomplishing  much  under  its  present  auspices, 


THE  LAST  OPINIONS  OF  DR.  CHANNING.  269 

or  its  present  form."*  And  one  brought  up  at  the  feet  of  our  mo 
dern  Gamaliel  has  told  me,  "  Unitarianism  was  not  to  him  a  foun 
tain  of  life.  The  best  he  ever  said  of  it  was,  that  he  hoped  it 
was  the  road  to  the  fountain.  He  never  pretended  that  he  had 
learned  precisely  what  that  power  is  which  should  change  the  self 
ishness  of  the  heart  into  love,  although  he  asserted  so  eloquently 
that  as  sure  as  God  lives,  such  a  power  Jesus  personally  pos 
sessed  ;  and,  under  certain  conditions,  which,  however,  he  did 
not  clearly  define,  all  men  might  gain  it  from  him."  She  said, 
"  it  was  affecting  to  see  how  careful  he  was  of  the  lantern  which 
should  contain  this  light,  and  how  intensely  conscious  of  the 
darkness  that  needs  its  beams."  That  "  he  always  declared  the 
system  of  Unitarianism,  the  best  he  knew,"  was  yet  "  a  very  mea 
gre  and  lifeless  statement  of  the  Christian  religion,  quite  inade 
quate  to  have  stirred  into  existence  the  stormy  chaos  that  Christ 
endom  has  hitherto  been,  or  manifestly  inadequate  to  make  that 
chaos  an  ordered  world,"!  and  my  friend  believed  Dr.  Chan- 
ning  "  gave  many  signs,  before  he  passed  away,  of  being  intrin 
sically  superior  to  the  system  he  supported  ;  for,  she  said,  he  ab 
sorbed  from  another  system  than  his  own,  something  higher  still, 
which  put  him  into  sublimer  relations  than  he  himself  knew." 
"  '  Now,  from  all  these  indications  of  dubiety  and  change,'^: 

*  Letter  of  Dr.  Charming  in  Life  of  J.Blanco  White,  dated  18th  Sept.,  1839. 

f  From  "The  Present'1  for  November,  1843,  page  91.  Edited  by  W.  H. 
Charming.  "The  Present"  for  April,  1844,  p.  401.  See  Appendix,  F. 

J  The  following  article  appeared  in  the  Southern  Churchman,  and  was 
copied  into  the  N.  E.  Puritan,  vol.  viii.  No.  28,  of  July  15,  1847. 

"  The  Rev.  W.  E.  Channing,  if  not  the  father  of  Unitarianism  in  this  coun 
try,  was  one  of  those  most  active  and  successful  in  promoting  it.  His  polished 
eloquence  gave  him,  in  connection  with  his  general  refinement  and  high  moral 
tone,  a  notoriety  none  of  his  class  have  enjoyed.  Dr.  C.  was  originally  Ortho 
dox,  but  gradually  sunk  down  till  he  became  a  mere  Unitarian,  regarding 
Christ  only  as  a  virtuous  man  and  his  religion  only  as  an  excellent  system  of 
ethics.  With  these  sentiments  we  suppose — we  fear,  he  died;  but  we  find 
in  an  instructive  little  volume  by  the  Rev.  Dr.  Burgess,  of  Hartford,  a  state 
ment  which  to  our  mind  implies  that  in  his  last  days,  Dr.  C.  felt  the  chilliness 
and  meagreness  of  his  system,  and  would  fain,  if  it  had  been  possible,  have 
put  into  it  a  life  and  power  which  does  not  belong  to  it,  or  to  any  system 
which  does  not  make  Christ  "very  God,"  as  well  as  "  very  Man."  Dr.  Chan 
ning  died  in  1842.  During  that  year  the  noted  Mr.  Brownson,  who  had  been 
a  theological  follower,  and  styled  himself  a  spiritual  son  of  Dr.  C.,  addressed 
him  a  letter  declaring  he  had  discovered  the  hollowness  of  the  system  which 
they  both  in  common  held,  and  that  it  satisfied  neither  the  claims  of  truth, 
nor  the  wants  of  the  human  heart.  What  effect  this  warning  had  cannot  be 
known  ;  but  it  appears  that  attending  a  meeting  of  a  society  in  Lenox,  Mass., 
soon  after,  Dr.  C.  delivered  an  address  in  which  he  used  language,  which  to 
say  the  least,  sounds  strange  to  our  ears,  coming  from  a  man  with  his  views. 
"  As  if,"  says  Dr.  Burgess,  "  through  all  his  negations,  a  gleam  from  the  hea* 


270  PETER  SCHLEMIHL. 

continued  Mrs.  Percy,  '  in  the  mind  of  Dr.  Channing  in  his 
closing  years,  there's  no  doubt  had  he  been  possessed  of  better 
and  firmer  health,  he  would  have  been  equally  bold  in  his  attacks 
on  the  system  of  Unitarian  divinity  as  he  left  it,  as  he  was  in  his 
grand  demonstration  on  the  old  forms  of  Orthodoxy.  No  man 
has  ever  had  the  courage  to  make  such  an  onslaught  as  he  did 
years  ago,  on  the  time-honored  opinions  of  the  pilgrim  fathers  of 
his  native  land.' 

"  As  I  found  her  communicative,  and  mounting  one  of  her 
hobby-horses,  I  asked  her  to  be  so  kind  as  to  give  me  an  exam 
ple  of  this  fearlessness,  for  I  had  been  of  the  opinion  that  the 
doctor  was  one  of  those  shrewd  men  who  never  ventured  into 
controversies  in  which  he  was  not  warmly  sustained  by  the  pub 
lic  opinion  of  his  beloved  city,  on  the  cresting  waves  of  which 
he  was  well  content  to  ride,  but  which  he  had  no  especial  desire 
to  lash  into  a  tempest. 

'*  She  said,  '  she  had  never  read  anything  which  surpassed  his 
blow  directed  at  the  cross  of  Christ.' 

"  As  I  had  no  recollection  of  it,  she  was  pleased  to  repeat  the 
following  sentence  from  a  sermon  of  his,  in  which  he  says : — 
*  Suppose  a  teacher  should  come  among  you,  and  should  tell  you 
that  the  Creator,  in  order  to  pardon  his  children,  had  erected  a 
gallows  in  the  centre  of  the  universe,  and  had  publicly  executed 
upon  it,  in  room  of  the  offenders,  an  infinite  being,  the  partaker 
of  his  own  Supreme  Divinity;  suppose  him  to  declare  that  the 
execution  was  appointed  as  a  most  conspicuous  and  terrible  mani 
festation  of  God's  justice,  and  of  the  infinite  woe  denounced  by 
his  law ;  and  suppose  him  to  add  that  all  things  in  heaven  and 
earth  are  required  to  fix  their  eyes  on  this  fearful  sight,  as  the 
most  powerful  enforcement  of  obedience  and  virtue.  Would  you 
not  tell  him  that  he  calumniated  his  Maker  ?  Would  you  not  say 
to  him  that  this  central  gallows  threw  a  gloom  over  the  universe? 
that  the  spirit  of  a  government  whose  very  acts  of  pardon  were 
written  in  such  blood,  was  terror,  not  paternal  love ;  and  that  the 

ven  of  truth  had  shot  in  at  sunset;"  Dr.  Channing  said — "  the  doctrine  of  the 
Word  made  flesh  shows  us  God  uniting  himself  most  intimately  with  our 
nature,  manifesting  himself  in  a  human  form,  for  the  very  end  of  making  us 
partakers  of  his  own  perfection.  *  *  *  The  doctrine  of  grace  as  it  is  termed, 
he  said,  reveals  the  Infinite  Father  imparting  his  Holy  Spirit,  the  best  gift  he 
can  impart,  to  the  humblest  being  who  implores  it." 

"  In  the  concluding  paragraph  he  uttered  what  as  a  rhetorical  apostrophe 
would  be  almost  profane,  and  as  a  prayer  would  be  at  variance  with  the 
efforts  of  his  life:  'Come,  friend  and  Saviour  of  the  race,  who  didst  shed  thy 
blood  upon  the  cross  to  reconcile  man  to  man,  and  earth  to  Heaven !' 

"A  few  days  after  he  died  at  Bennington,  Vermont." 


271 

obedience  which  needed  to  be  upheld  by  this  horrid  spectacle 
was  nothing  worth.'* 

"  I  listened  with  astonishment,  and  asked  her,  '  if  after  this, 
Dr.  Channing  could  go  into  his  pulpit,  and  read,  and  preach  from 
the  Epistles  of  Paul?'  ' 

"  Your  astonishment,  my  dear  madam,"  said  the  Gentleman  in 
Black,  interrupting  Mrs.  Smith,  "could  not  have  exceeded  my 
own,  when  I  saw  the  sentence.  It  seemed  to  me  unsurpassed  for 
its  force  and  condensation  of  thought  and  feeling." 

Mrs.  Smith  was  more  mystified  than  ever,  and  was  evidently 
endeavoring  to  find  some  spot  in  which  she  could  fix  the  stranger, 
who  seemed  "everything  by  turns,  and  nothing  long." 

"And  do  you  think  the  Bible  inspired  by  the  spirit  of  God?" 
asked  Mrs.  Smith. 

"  It  wears  all  the  impress  of  a  divine  origin,"  replied  the  Gen 
tleman  in  Black. 

"  And  what  form  of  faith  do  you  deem  best  ?" 

"My  dear  madam,  I  am  very  Catholic  in  these  matters;  any 
sort  is  very  good,  so  you  don't  have  too  much  of  it." 

"Ah!  but  how  can  I  have  too  much,  when  the  command  is, 
to  '  love  the  Lord  our  God  with  all  our  heart,  with  all  our  strength, 
and  with  all  our  mind  ;  and  our  neighbors  as  ourselves  ?' ' 

"  That's  very  true,"  replied  the  Gentleman  in  Black. 

"  Then  indeed,"  said  Mrs.  Smith,  "  the  case  of  all  men  is 
hopeless,  for  all  have  sinned,  and  come  short  of  the  glory  of  God." 

"Madam,"  replied  the  Gentleman  in  Black,  in  a  cold  and 
severe  tone;  "  God  and  the  sun  are-  seen  in  their  own  light !  the 
aids  of  human  learning  won't  help  you.  If  you  are  thus  con 
demned,  what  better  is  left  you,  than  to  eat,  drink,  and  be  merry  ?" 

"  But  I  am  like  Damocles  at  the  feast  of  the  tyrant  of  Syra 
cuse,"  said  Mrs.  Smith,  "  the  sword  hangs  over  me  suspended  by 
the  untwisting  thread  of  human  life,  I  have  no  appetite  for  the 
feast  spread  before  me." 

The  Gentleman  in  Black  grew  impatient  of  the  subject,  and 
begged  Mrs.  Smith  to  do  him  the  favor  to  go  on  with  her  narra 
tive. 

[We  here  omit  much  more  of  what  occurred  in  relation  to  the 
new  theology,  and  Mrs.  Smith's  personal  experience.  Mrs. 
Smith  and  her  friend  were  in  search  of  certainty  as  to  intuitions, 
which,  on  comparison,  they  found  frequently  distressingly  diverse. 
"  The  magnet  of  their  minds  was  constantly  traversing  the  poles 
of  diversity,  and  never  found  rest  in  the  bosom  of  unity."  The 
colloquy  proceeded  as  follows.] 

*  Channing's  Works,  p.  423. 


272  PETER  SCHLEMIHL. 

"  In  our  attempts  to  reach  the  heights,  or,  if  you  please,  the 
depths  of  Kant,  we  were  not  a  little  mystified,  as,  I  suppose,  most 
persons  are,  who  attempt  to  read  him  in  an  English  dress;  or 
who  take  a  more  usual  and  short-hand  cut,  of  adopting  his  phi 
losophy  as  it  comes,  somewhat  diluted,  in  that  most  uncertain  of 
all  indexes — the  Dial.  Still,  it  was  something  to  dig  down  to  the 
foundations  of  the  mind;  and  the  task,  though shard,  was  not  re 
newed  without,  as  we  believed,  some  kind  auspices.  We  had  an 
idea,  or  what  Dr.  Franklin's  angler  would  have  called  *  a  glorious 
nibble,'  and  that  we  were  not  entirely  successful,  we  believed 
arose  from  no  want  of  truth  in  the  philosophy,  or  of  perspica 
city  in  its  expounders,  but  in  consequence  of  the  diseased  state 
of  our  souls,  encumbered  as  were  the  vehicles  of  thought  by  the 
bread  and  butter,  and  soups  and  meats,  we  had  been  fed  upon 
from  infancy,  and  which  thus  impeded  our  progress.  Acting 
upon  this  idea,  Helen  and  I  determined  to  try  what  would  be 
the  effect  of  a  change  of  our  diet — and  we  at  once  adopted  a 
system  which  exceeded  even  the  system  recently  so  popular,  and 
out-Grahamed  Graham.  We  drank  our  water  by  measure,  and 
eat  our  bread  by  weight — and  if  opinions  could  be  induced  by  di 
eting,  we  might  have  become  Boodhists  at  once — and  I  think  there 
is  something  in  this,  though,  for  my  part,  I  could  not  carry  out 
my  experience  to  any  great  extent;  for  my  husband,  though  usually 
entirely  absorbed  in  his  own  pursuits,  could  not  but  remark  upon 
it,  and  was  anxious  to  know  why  this  change  had  been  adopted. 
Now  to  tell  him  the  truth,  would  have  induced  a  series  of  ridicule 
I  was  not  willing  to  meet,  so  that  I  found  myself  unable  to  keep 
pace  with  my  dear  friend  in  her  onward  progress." 

"  Pray,  what  notions  did  you  start  with  ?"  inquired 'the  Gentle 
man  in  Black. 

"  Why,  these  were  somewhat  difficult  for  us  to  define — the  most 
important  of  all  was,  that  in  the  reason  lie  conceptions  or  ideas, 
not  derived  from  experience,  but  which  are  the  foundations  of 
all  knowledge,  and  that  these  are  the  pure  intuitions  of  the  mind 
— but  the  task  was,  to  find  what  intuitions  were  universal  and 
true.  Now  there  were,  in  our  coterie,  a  dozen  ladies,  old  and 
young,  who  were  in  the  pursuit  of  this  clue,  through  this  psy 
chological  labyrinth,  and  as  we  had  discarded  the  Scriptures,  as 
being  a  standard  of  truth  for  us,  we  found  ourselves  all  wandering 
in  a  different  way,  and,  as  I  have  reason  to  fear,  '  all  in  the  down 
ward  road.'  Some  of  our  ladies,  who  were  more  learned  than 
the  others,  told  us  of  Plato  and  his  intellectual  archetypes,  another 
of  Aristotle  and  his  immaterial  phantasms,  another  of  Epicurus, 
and  his  effigies  thrown  forth  from  the  objects  themselves,  and  some 
were  disciples  of  Des  Cartes,  and  demanded  proof  as  to  all  these 


273 

systems  ;  which  was  more  easy  to  ask  than  to  receive,  reducing 
all  our  knowledge  to  consciousness,  of  which  a  very  young  lady, 
who  had  studied  Greek,  denied,  like  another  Pyrrho,  the  exist 
ence.  Another,  who  read  only  English,  entertained  us  with  the 
ideal  theory  of  Berkeley, 

'"She  would  not,  with  a  peremptory  tone, 
Assert  the  nose  upon,  her  face  her  own.' 

The  results  of  our  investigations  were  decidedly  pantheistic,  and 
amounted  to  this,  that  life  is  but  '  a  composition  of  assembled 
phenomena,'  dissolved  by  death." 

"  But  what  became  of  your  pure  intuitions,  all  this  while  ?" 
asked  the  Gentleman  in  Black. 

"Ah  !  that  was  the  trouble;  our  circle  of  inquirers  at  last  hit 
upon  an  expedient,  which  we  thought  would  be  satisfactory. 
Accordingly,  we  determined  to  select  a  subject  for  our  private 
reflections,  and  during  the  ensuing  week  to  observe  a  very  rigid 
abstinence  from  all  food,  except  bread  and  water,  and  to  write  out 
our  intuitions,  which  we  were  to  read  at  our  next  meeting.  The 
subject  was  *  the  nature  and  existence  of  God  ;'  and  we  separated 
with  sanguine  hopes  of  success,  meaning,  if  we  found  ourselves 
successful,  to  go  through  the  whole  circle  of  inquiries  in  this 
way. 

"Accordingly  we  met,  and  some  of  the  ladies  said  they  were 
in  the  condition  of  the  philosopher,  who  was  requested  to  solve 
this  question  by  Dionysius,  the  tyrant  of  Syracuse — the  longer 
they  reflected,  the  more  they  were  in  doubt,  and  begged  to  be  ex 
cused  from  attempting  a  solution  of  the  question.  I  will  not 
attempt  to  tell  you  all  that  was  read,  and  which  was  surprisingly 
discordant.  One  quoted  the  opinions  of  Hegel,  the  father  of  the 
philosophy  of 'Young  Germany,'  '  that  God  was  an  unconscious 
power,  which  pervades  all  persons,  and  which  arrives  to  self- 
consciousness  only  in  the  personality  of  man,  an  ever  streaming 
immanence  of  spirit  in  matter.'  Another  said  she  agreed  with 
Professor  Michelet,  that  *  God  is  the  eternal  movement  of  the 
universal  principle,  constantly  manifesting  itself  in  individual 
existences,  and  which  has  no  true  objective  existence,  but  in 
these  individuals,  which  pass  away  into  the  infinite.'  And  one, 
who  had  read  the  '  Leben  Jesu'  of  Strauss,  held  his  opinion  con 
fidently,  that  '  He  is  a  man  who  knows  no  other  God  than  /w'm, 
who  in  the  human  race  is  constantly  becoming  man.*  For  as 

*  Tholuck,  speaking  of  the  Pantheism  of  Germany,  says,  "  Since  God,  say 
these  theorists,  cannot  be  unlimited,  if  the  personality  of  man  be  considered 
real,  this  personality  can  only  be  apparent.  The  original  unlimited  existence 
which  pervades  the  universe,  strives  through  its  own  activity  to  become  ob- 

18  * 


274  PETER  SCHLEMIHL. 

man,  considered  as  a  mere  finite  spirit,  and  restricted  to  himself, 
has  no  reality,  so  God  considered  as  an  infinite  spirit,  restricting 
himself  to  his  infinity,  has  no  reality.  The  infinite  has  reality 
only  so  far  as  he  unites  himself  to  finite  spirits,  and  the  finite, 
only  so  far  as  he  sinks  himself  in  the  infinite.'  One  young  lady 
quoted,  as  the  result  of  her  reading,  Heine,  the  disciple  of  Hegel, 
and  read  with  emphasis,  this  sentence  of  his  writings: 

"  '  We  are  free — and  need  no  thundering  tyrant — we  are  of  age, 
and  need  no  fatherly  care — we  are  not  the  hand-work  of  any  great 
mechanic.  Theism  is  a  religion  of  slaves — for  children,  for  Gene- 
vese  and  watch-makers.' 

"  Now  it  happened,  that  just  after  our  ladies  had  commenced 
reading  their  papers,  a  very  excellent  old  lady,  the  grandmother 
of  one  of  our  number,  entered,  under  the  impression,  as  it  turned 
out,  that  this  was  a  devotional  meeting,  and  quietly  took  her  seat 
beside  her  grand-child,  a  lovely  girl,  who  was  one  of  our  number, 
greatly  to  the  surprise  and  annoyance  of  us  all,  and  of  her  grand 
child  in  particular.  At  first  we  paused,  fearing  to  go  on  ;  but  she 
expressed  a  hope  '  that  she  should  be  permitted  to  participate  in 
our  exercises,'  of  the  nature  of  which  she  was  entirely  ignorant — 
and  one  of  the  ladies,  more  fearless  than  the  rest,  went  on  with 
the  reading  of  her  paper,  and  the  rest  reluctantly  followed.  The 
old  lady  look  out  her  knitting,  and  sat  apparently  intently  occu 
pied  with  her  work,  till  these  last  words  were  read.  She  then 
laid  down  her  work  in  her  lap,  and  putting  her  specks  on  her 
cap,  looked  around  on  the  group,  with  an  air  of  perfect  astonish 
ment.  She  may  not  have  comprehended  what  had  been  going 
forward,  but  now  her  mind  opened  to  a  clear  conception  of  the 

jective  to  itself,  that  is,  to  arrive  at  self-consciousness;  the  infinite  becomes 
objective  to  itself  when  it  reveals  itself  in  the  finite,  and  when  this  finite 
revelation  is  conscious  of  its  unity  with  the  infinite.  Hence,  from  the  stone  to 
the  angel,  individuality  is  merely  apparent,  but  nothing  more  than  the  mo 
difications  of  the  infinite  first  principle.  Human  individuals  realize  the 
greatest  perfection  of  the  infinite  principle,  to  come  to  a  consciousness  of 
itself,  because  men,  through  the  faculty  of  thought,  feeling,  or  the  imagination, 
clearly  conceive  themselves  as  manifestations  of  the  infinite.  This  is  the 
manner  in  which  these  theorists  endeavor  to  destroy  all  individual  person 
ality.  With  the  rejection  of  the  personality  of  finite  existence,  is  necessarily 
connected  the  rejection  of  the  personality  of  the  infinite.  For  as  the  infinite 
unlimited  God  arrives  at  self-consciousness,  only  through  the  creation  of  the 
finite  individual,  so  it  is  clear,  that  if  we  in  any  sense  ascribe  personality  to 
him,  it  can  only  be  the  apparent  personality  of  the  finite  individual — that  is, 
his  life.  Other  consequences  equally  shocking,  flow  from  these  principles. 
If  God  be  the  only  and  equally  universal  agent,  in  all  beings,  then  good  and 
evil  are  equally  the  acts  of  God,  and  the  objective  difference  between  good  and 
evil  falls  to  the  ground.'' — TholucVs  History  of  Theology  in  the  ISth  Century, 
article  "  Pantheism." 


NAPOLEON  AND  SIR  HUMPHRY  DAVY.  275 

nature  and  direction  of  our  literary  inquiries — and  no  longer  able 
to  contain  herself,  and  addressing  the  young  lady, 

"'May  I  ask,  \vho  made  the  world?'  inquired  the  old  lady, 
commencing  her  attack. 

"  *  The  world,  and  all  worlds,  created  themselves,'  replied  the 
very  young  lady. 

"  'Bless  me  !'  said  the  old  lady,  in  tones  of  surprise — '  by  what 
law  did  such  order  arise  ?' 

"'Of  fate  or  necessity,'  was  the  reply. 

'"Out  of  what?'  continued  the  old  lady. 

" '  Out  of  infinite  atoms,  that  have  a  passion  for  every  change 
into  which  they  enter.' 

'"But  whence  these  atoms,  and  whence  the  laws,  or  passions 
for  change  ?' 

"  The  young  lady  now  looked  around  for  help,  but  no  one  came 
to  her  assistance. 

"  'I  had  supposed,'  said  the  old  lady,  '  that  the  maxim  was  as 
old  as  Democritus — 

"  Naught  springs  from  naught,  and  can  to  naught  return."  ' 

"  We  all  sat  as  silent  as  whipped  children,  and  had  not  a  word 
to  say  for  ourselves. 

"  The  old  lady,  looking  around  upon  us  with  no  little  severity, 
said,  'How  wonderful  it  is,  that  here,  in  this  land  and  in  this  age, 
a  coterie  of  well  bred,  well  instructed  females  can  be  found,  labor 
ing  to  put  out  the  light  of  conscience,  and  of  nature — striving  to 
become  infidels.  Truly  has  St.  Paul  said  of  such,"  professing  to 
be  wise,  they  become  fools" — accounting  the  glorious  Gospel  of 
the  Blessed  God,  by  which  life  and  immortality  are  brought  to 
light,  the  fables  and  myths  of  a  past  age.' 

"  '  My  dear  madam,'  said  the  very  young  lady,  '  all  the  great 
minds  of  the  present  age  deem  them  so.' 

"  '  What  great  minds  ?'  asked  the  old  lady  sharply.  '  Was 
Napoleon  a  great  mind  ?  Las  Casas  tells  us  he  said  to  him,  at 
St.  Helena,  where  his  soul  had  time  to  reflect  on  his  destiny, 
"  Perhaps  I  shall  again  believe  implicitly.  God  grant  I  may.  I 
do  not  ask  a  greater  blessing.  It  must  in  my  mind  be  a  great 
and  real  happiness."*  He  said,  too,  "  I  never  doubted  the  ex 
istence  of  God,  for  if  my  reason  was  inadequate  to  comprehend  it, 
my  mind  was  not  less  disposed  to  adopt  it."  Was  not  Sir  Hum 
phry  Davy  a  great  mind  ?  Hear  what  he  says  in  the  closing 
days  of  a  life  made  illustrious  by  his  genius  and  discoveries. 
Then,  when  he  took  a  just  view  of  life,  he  said,  "I  envy  no 
quality  of  mind  or  intellect  in  others — not  genius,  power,  wit,  or 

*  Las  Casas,  vol.  iii.  p.  201. 


276  PETER  SCHLEMIHL. 

fancy ;  but  if  I  could  choose  what  would  be  most  delightful,  and, 
I  believe,  most  useful  to  me,  I  should  prefer  a  firm  religious  be 
lief  to  every  other  blessing ;  for  it  makes  a  disciple  of  goodness, 
creates  new  hopes  when  all  earthly  hopes  vanish,  and  throws 
over  decay,  the  destruction  of  existence,  the  most  gorgeous  of  all 
lights ;  awakens  life  even  in  death,  and  from  corruption  and  de 
cay  calls  up  beauty  and  divinity :  makes  an  instrument  of  torture 
and  of  shame,  the  ladder  of  ascent  to  Paradise ;  and,  far  above 
all  combinations  of  earthly  hopes,  calls  up  the  most  delightful 
visions  of  palms  and  amaranths,  the  gardens  of  the  blessed,  the 
security  of  everlasting  joys,  where  the  sensualist  and  the  skeptic 
view  only  gloom,  decay,  annihilation,  and  despair."*  Was  not 
La  Place  a  great  mind  ?  His  last  words  were  worthy  of  so  great  a 
man :  "  What  we  know,  is  little ;  what  we  are  ignorant  of,  is  im 
mense  :"t  and,  speaking  of  the  phenomena  of  the  solar  system, 
he  says,  "  It  is  as  infinity  to  unity  that  this  is  not  the  effect  of 
hazard. "J  And  what  to  these  men  are  the  names  of  Kant,  of 
Hegel,  of  Heine,  of  Strauss,  of  Michelet,  and  Fichte  ? — men  de 
voted  to  a  science  which  Mr.  Tucker,  one  of  those  best  acquainted 
with  the  subject,  has  told  us,  is  only  able,  "  like  the  spear  of 
Achilles,  to  heal  the  wounds  it  had  made  before.  It  casts  no  ad 
ditional  light  upon  the  paths  of  life,  but  only  disperses  the  clouds 
with  which  it  had  overspread  them.  It  advances  not  the  traveler 
one  step  on  his  journey,  but  conducts  him  back  again  to  the  spot 
from  whence  he  had  wandered."  '§ 

"  '  May  I  ask  who  this  Mr.  Tucker  was  ?'  interrupted  a  lady 
near  me. 

"  'Mr.  Tucker  was  the  author  of  "The  Light  of  Nature,'" 
replied  the  old  lady. 

"  '  An  English  empiric,'  said  the  very  young  lady,  with  a  sneer. 

"  *  Empiric  !  What  do  you  mean  by  that  ?  Do  you  mean  a 
quack?' 

"  '  Oh,  never,  dear  madam  ;  not  exactly  a  quack,  but  one  whose 
philosophy  is  purely  sensuous  ;  or,  as  Lord  Bacon  has  it,  "  all 
our  knowledge  is  derived  from  experience." 

"  '  And  Bacon  ?' 

"  'The  hierophant  of  empiricism,'  replied  the  very  young 
lady. 

"  '  My  dear  child,  let  me  recite  you  some  verses  I  learned 
many  years  ago,  and  which  contain  truths  that  have  stood  the 
test  of  human  scrutiny,  and  which  I  doubt  if  you  ever  have 
read.'  The  old  lady  then  recited  these  lines  : 

*  From  "  Consolations  in  Travel,"  p.  63.       f  Powell,  Hist.  Nat.  Phil.,  p.  378. 
J  System,  vol.  ii.  p.  366.  §  Light  of  Nature,  chap,  xxxii. 


LUCRETIUS.  277 

"'Who  holds  that  naught  is  known,  denies  he  knows 
E'en  this,  thus  owning  that  he  nothing  knows. 
With  such  I  ne'er  could  reason,  who,  with  face 
Distorted,  treads  the  ground  just  trod  before. 

Yet  grant  e'en  this  he  knows:  since  naught  exists 
Of  truth  in  things,  whence  learns  he  what  to  know, 
Or  what  not  know  ?     What  things  can  give  him  first 
The  notion  crude  of  what  is  false  or  true  ? 

Search,  and  this  earliest  notion  thou  wilt  find 
Of  truth  and  falsehood  from  the  senses  drawn, 
Nor  aught  can  e'er  refute  them :  for  what  once, 
By  truths  opposed,  their  falsehood  can  detect, 
Must  claim  a  trust  far  ampler  than  themselves. 
Yet  what,  than  these,  an  ampler  trust  can  claim  ? 
Can  reason,  born,  forsooth,  of  erring  sense, 
Impeach  those  senses  whence  alone  it  springs  ? 
And  which,  if  false,  itself  can  ne'er  be  true. 
Can  sight  correct  the  ears'?     Can  ears  the  touch? 
Or  touch  the  tongue's  fine  flavor  ?  or,  o'er  all, 
Can  smell  triumphant  rise?     Absurd  the  thought! 
For  every  sense  a  separate  function  boasts, 
A  power  prescribed;  and  hence,  or  soft,  or  hard, 
Or  hot,  or  cold,  to  its  appropriate  sense 
Alone  appeals.     The  gaudy  train  of  hues, 
With  their  light  shades  appropriate,  thus  alike 
Perceive  we;  tastes  appropriate  powers  possess; 
Appropriate  sounds  and  odors ;  and  hence,  too, 
One  sense  another  ne'er  can  contravene, 
Nor  e'en  correct  itself,  since  every  hour, 
In  every  act,  each  claims  an  equal  faith. 

E'en  though  the  mind  no  real  cause  could  urge 
Why  what  is  square  when  present,  when  remote 
Cylindric  seems,  'twere  dangerous  less  to  adopt 
A  cause  unsound,  than  rashly  yield  at  once 
All  that  we  grasp  of  truth  and  surety  most; 
Rend  all  reliance,  and  root  up,  forlorn, 
The  first  firm  principles  of  life  and  health. 
For  not  alone  fails  reason,  life  itself 
Ends  instant,  if  the  senses  thou  distrust, 
And  dare  some  dangerous  precipice,  or  aught 
Against  warn'd  equal,  spurning  what  is  safe. 
Hence  all  against  the  senses  urg'd  in  vain ; 
Mere  idle  rant,  and  hollow  pomp  of  words. 

As,  in  a  building,  if  the  first  lines  err, 
If  aught  impede  the  plummet,  or  the  rule 
From  its  just  angles  deviate  but  a  hair, 
The  total  edifice  must  rise  untrue, 
Recumbent,  curv'd,  o'erhanging,  void  of  grace, 
Tumbling  or  tumbled  from  this  first  defect — 
So  must  all  reason  prove  unsound,  deduced 
From  things  created,  if  the  senses  err.'* 

*  Lucretius. 


278  PETER  SCHLEMIHL. 

"I  requested  the  old  lady  to  give  me  the  reference  to  this  quo 
tation,  which,  to  me,  seemed  perfectly  satisfactory.  She  pro 
mised  to  send  me  the  quotation,  and  did  so  a  few  days  after,  and 
I  committed  these  lines  to  memory.  I  know  of  nothing  more 
perfectly  unanswerable. 

"  '  My  dear  child,  do  you  mean  to  say  you  don't  believe  the 
Gospel  ?'  continued  the  old  lady,  having  ended  her  recitation. 

"  '  My  dear  madam,'  replied  the  very  young  lady,  '  the  evan 
gelical  history  is  a  fable — so  says  StraussS 

"  *  A  fable  !'  rejoined  the  old  lady;  'and  what  of  God  ?' 

"  'God  exists  only  as  an  idea,'  said  the  young  lady,  'or  as 
Cousin  has  it,'  reading  her  notes,  '"  our  ideas  of  the  infinite,  and 
the  finite,  and  the  relation  between  them,  are  God  himself" — 
"  God  returns  to  himself  in  the  consciousness  of  man,"  or,  as 
Goethe  has  it  in  Faust,  "  Man's  dignity  yields  not  to  God's  sub 
limity."  ' 

"  '  Well,  my  dear  child,'  replied  the  good  lady,  'and  is  this  the 
result  of  all  your  fasting  and  prayer?' 

"  '  Prayer,  my  dear  madam — and  do  you  suppose  we  pray ! — 
to  whom  ?' 

"  'Why  do  you  fast  then?  for  my  grandchild  here  has  been 
feeding  upon  bread  and  water  for  this  week  past.  Why  do  you 
do  this?' 

"  '  We  discipline  the  body  in  order  to  give  free  scope  to  the 
soul,'  replied  the  young  lady. 

"  '  Truly,'  said  the  old  lady,  looking  around  the  circle  with 
an  air  of  severity,  '  you  have  been  fasting  to  little  purpose  to 
reach  a  state  of  mind  where  all  is  darkness,  despair,  and  death. 
Your  philosophy  is  an  exhausting  process,  by  which  all  that  is 
capable  of  sustaining  the  soul  in  sorrow  and  suffering,  is  reduced 
to  its  lowest  term — a  faith  in  negations,  the  more  mystical  its 
phrase,  so  much  the  more  supremely  ridiculous  in  fact.  And  this 
is  the  ultimate  of  all  your  attainments,  to  live  without  God,  and 
without  hope  in  the  world.'  So  saying,  the  old  lady  rose,  taking 
her  grandchild  by  the  hand,  made  us  her  curtsey,  and  withdrew. 

"Our  party  were  a  good  deal  disheartened  by  the  exhortations 
of  this  excellent  old  lady.  We  had  failed,  signally  failed,  in  find 
ing  any  two  of  us  whose  intuitions  were  alike,  and  all  of  us 
feared  to  be  told  we  were  infidels  and  skeptics." 

"  And  what  did  you  care  if  this  was  reported  of  you  ?"  said  the 
Gentleman  in  Black. 

"Care!  why,  my  dear  sir,  the  most  refined  and  sentimental  of 
our  number,  those  who  could  talk  very  well  in  favor  of  rehabi- 
litationism  and  the  wrongs  of  society  inflicted  especially  upon 
our  sex;  who  could  all  but  demonstrate,  that  all  the  evils  of  life 


HELEN  PERCY.  279 

arose  from  the  organization  of  society;  and  who  had  plans  of 
phalanxes  and  communities  exceeding  all  that  Fourier  had  pro 
jected,  or  which  the  Brook  farm  folks  had  attempted,  turned  pale 
at  the  thought  of  their  being  styled  *  infidels,  and  disciples  of  Fanny 
Wright' — indeed  !  so  great  was  this  fear,  that  our  circle  of  free 
inquiry  never  again  assembled,  and  thus  the  question  of  the  truth 
fulness  of  our  several  intuitions  never  could  be  settled  ;  and  each 
one  of  us  took  the  road  of  intellectual  development  we  thought 
fittest  and  best. 

"  The  predictions  of  the  old  lady  rested  on  my  mind,  and  were 
destined  to  be  most  painfully  realized,  in  the  dying  hours  of  my 
dear  Helen,  of  whom  I  have  already  spoken  as  my  best  friend, 
and  who  had  first  indoctrinated  me  with  this  transcendental  phi 
losophy.  She  was  plighted  to  a  gentleman,  who  was  himself 
deep  in  all  the  lore  of  German  scholarship.  Her  health  began  to 
decline,  and  during  the  first  stages  of  consumption,  her  soul  was 
beautifully  calm  and  serene.  She  spoke  of  her  decease  with  a 
composure  which  Cicero  would  have  envied ;  and  surrounded  as 
she  was  with  all  that  could  make  life  attractive,  I  could  not  but  ad 
mire  the  placidity  and  loveliness  of  her  mind.  This  continued  till 
toward  the  very  close  of  life,  when  a  change  came  over  her  spirit. 

"  One  morning,  when  I  called  to  make  her  my  accustomed  visit, 
I  found  her  reading  the  Scriptures.  She  said — *  I  wish  I  could  be 
lieve  these  promises ;  truly  they  are  "  exceeding  great  and  pre 
cious  promises,"  to  those  by  whom  they  are  realized;  but  then  it 
is  the  few  only  who  are  so  constituted  as  to  adopt  them  with  a 
firm  faith — "faith,  the  gift  of  God" — precious  faith!  But  to  my 
mind,  all  is  dark;  and  1  feel  the  truth  of  what  Luther  once  said  of 
himself — "  That  he  found  it  as  easy  to  create  a  world,  as  to  realize 
a  single  promise  of  God's  word."  Do  you  remember  what  the 
old  lady  told  us  of  Napoleon  and  Sir  Humphry  Davy  ?  Well, 
I  have  the  same  sad  experience  in  my  soul.  The  attainments  of 
science  may  answer  the  demands  of  the  soul  while  life  beats 
healthfully,  but  they  are  worthless  now.  Alas!  Herder,  the  gen 
tle  and  good  Herder,  in  the  agonies  of  dying,  calling  on  his  ne 
phew  "  for  a  noble  thought,  to  refresh  his  spirit  withal,"*  was  a 
sad  sight  to  all  his  disciples;  and  I  feel  the  poverty  of  such  con 
solations.'  She  repeated  the  text — '  For  our  life  is  hid  with 
Christ  in  God,  and  when  he  shall  appear,  we  shall  be  like  Him, 
for  we  shall  see  Him  as  he  is,'  and  then  said — '  What  thoughts 

*  This  was  the  dying  cry  of  Herder,  addressed  to  his  nephew.  Tholuck 
says — "  Amidst  the  temptations  of  life,  and  the  difficulties  with  which  our 
faith  is  assaulted,  we  must  have  some  better  foundation  than  the  system  of 
Herder.'  He  was  himself  an  example  how  little  a  faith  resting  on  such  grounds 
can  affect  the  life." 


280  PETER  SCHLEMIHL. 

were  present  to  the  mind  of  Paul  as  he  wrote  these  words !  How 
safe  and  sure  the  rewards  of  heaven — his  life  was  hid  with  Christ 
in  God !  Surely,  faith  is  the  highest  of  all  the  efforts  of  the  soul — 
with  him  it  was  no  phantasma,  but  a  vigorous  grasp  of  the  vastness 
of  the  thoughts  expressed — he  may  well  call  it  "  the  gift  of  God." 
Such  was  the  faith  of  our  Pilgrim  fathers  !  They  mastered  and 
wielded  those  giant  forms  of  faith,  which  have  now  become  so  fee 
ble  and  emasculated  in  the  minds  of  their  children.  Regeneration, 
adoption  and  sanctification  had,  to  them,  a  real  significance, 
which  they  feared  not  to  aver  in  all  their  nakedness  and  strength, 
in  full  confidence  that  God  would  maintain  the  truth  of  revelation. 

"'I  find,'  continued  Helen,  '  the  most  singular  and  beautiful 
adaptation  in  the  thoughts  presented  in  the  Scriptures,  to  sustain 
the  soul  sinking  into  the  sleep  of  death.  They  do  not  call  death 
dying,  but  sleeping — "sleeping  with  Jesus."  Stephen,  amid  the 
crushing  of  the  stones,  "  falls  asleep ;"  and  in  this  book,'  taking 
up  Stilling's  Autobiography,  '  I  find  him  expressing  some  very 
singular  conditions  of  his  soul,  just  before  his  death,  which  seem 
ed  hovering,  at  times,  around  him,  as  though  he  had  all  but  sub 
limed  into  a  spiritual  existence  ;  and  I  am  perplexed  with  the 
thought,  whether  it  may  not  yet  be  so — that  there  are  future  states 
of  being — and,  if  so,  what  are  those  states,  and  what  the  prepara 
tion  necessary  to  their  attainment :  and  when  I  search  these  Scrip 
tures,!  am  terrified  by  the  consciousness  that  they  demand  a  state 
of  soul  which  I  do  not  possess — and  when  I  seek  to  possess  it, 
then  the  philosophy  with  which  I  have  sought  to  satisfy  myself, 
presents  its  arguments  with  a  power  that  I  cannot  resist,  and  ad 
mits  of  no  possible  reconciliation  of  conflicting  opinions ;  so  my 
soul  is  in  that  most  extreme  point  of  wretchedness,  and  which 
Lord  Bacon  has  told  us  is  the  acme  of  human  misery,  when  the 
pendulum  vibrates  between  the  points  of  expectancy  and  dubiety 
— of  hope  and  despair.' 

"  I  attempted  to  satisfy  her  that  these  misgivings  arose,  not  from 
any  want  of  truthfulness  in  philosophy,  but  the  feebleness  of  her 
health,  and  the  force  of  some  early  prejudices  and  faith  in  the 
Bible,  that  she  could  not  shake  off,  which  now  recurring,  cre 
ated  this  anxiety  of  mind.  I  told  her  she  had  examined  all  these 
subjects  in  the  possession  of  her  utmost  intellectual  strength,  and 
she  must  now  rely  on  her  former  convictions  with  all  the  con 
fidence  of  ascertained  truths,  and  dismiss  all  these  questionings. 

"At  a  subsequent  visit,  she  renewed  this  subject,  which  seemed 
now  to  engross  her  whole  soul :  '  It  is  hard,'  she  said,  '  to  feel  the 
need  of  reconstructing  the  faith  of  my  childhood — my  belief  in  the 
being  and  attributes  of  God — at  a  time  when  my  thoughts  are  so 
absorbed  by  my  affections  for  the  sorrows  of  Henry,  and  my 


HELEN  PERCY'S  DEATHBED.  281 

dear  father  and  mother.  What  shall  I  do — what  can  I  do  ?'  And 
I  could  not  reply,  for  I  did  not  know  what  to  say. 

"  A  few  days  after  this,  she  failed  rapidly,  and  I  was  invited 
to  watch  with  her.  On  reaching  the  house,  the  sad  aspect  which 
everything  wore,  spoke  of  the  hopelessness  of  her  condition.  The 
parlors,  which  had  been  the  centre  of  so  many  pleasant  reunions, 
were  lighted,  but  empty — and  on  the  landing-place,  before  the 
door  of  her  chamber,  I  passed  the  physicians,  in  whispering  con 
sultation  with  her  father  and  mother,  who  expressed  a  feverish 
desire  to  be  doing  something — to  try  some  new  medicine.  But 
the  gentlemen  said,  Helen  needed  nothing  so  much  as  soothing 
rest ;  they  therefore  directed  the  administration  of  an  anodyne, 
which  I  promised  to  see  faithfully  administered,  *  By  all  means 
keep  her  quiet,'  were  their  last  words. 

"  Helen  was  bolstered  up  with  pillows,  breathing  short,  and  ex 
tremely  restless ;  she  held  the  hand  of  her  dear  Henry,  whose 
tenderness  and  despair  were  most  painfully  depicted  in  his  face. 
For  a  moment  she  relinquished  her  grasp,  to  press  my  hand,  and 
said,  *  My  dear  Mrs.  Smith,  you  come  to  see  me  die.'  I  was  too 
much  affected  to  speak,  and  tears  soon  came  to  my  relief;  I  kissed 
her,  and  told  her  to  hope  for  the  best.  '  Hope — oh !  what  of  hope 
is  there  for  one  who  is  on  the  brink  of  annihilation,  or  of  despair  ?' 
I  never  heard  such  words  so  spoken  before — never  felt  their  force 
as  at  that  moment  '  On  the  verge  of  heaven,  dearest !'  I  replied. — 
*  No,  my  dear  Mrs.  Smith,  to  us  there  exists  neither,  if  our  science 
be  true  ;  and  to  leave  life,  and  all  its  affections,  and  to  cease  to  be, 
is  most  dreadful !  But  I  feel  I  shall  not  cease  to  be — there  is 
truth  in  the  saying  "  death  is  but  a  change  of  being"* — but  what  will 
be  that  state  ?  a  worm,  a  butterfly — no  more.' — She  was  silent. 

44  And  I  said,  4  An  angel,  Helen,  a  bright,  beautiful  spirit  soar 
ing  to  realms  of  unclouded  day.' 

44  4  Oh!  this  would  be  beautiful,'  she  replied,  'but  you  know 
we  believe  that  there  is  no  higher  form  of  existence  than  that  we 
now  possess.  44  God  returns  to  himself  in  man"  '  she  said, 
quoting  the  axiom  of  Strauss. 

44  Her  night  passed  wearily  away,  and  never  was  a  night  so 
long  to  me.  She  slept  under  the  influence  of  morphine,  a  heavy 
death-like  sleep,  and  awoke  about  two  o'clock,  after  midnight.  Her 
eyes  were  bright  and  her  intellect  unclouded,  her  respiration 
feeble,  but  her  voice  retained  its  silvery  tones.  We  asked  her  to 
take  the  medicine. 

44 '  No  !  I  will  not  be  drugged  in  my  dying  hours.  I  want 
to  look  upon  life  once  more ;  to  see  for  a  last  time  my  father 

*  Heraclitus. 


282  PETER  SCHLEMIHL. 

and  my  mother,  ere  I  sleep  the  sleep  of  death.'  And  I  could 
not  find  it  in  my  heart  to  resist  her  entreaties  to  be  spared  the 
medicine,  which,  she  said,  '  had  for  its  object,  not  to  cure,  but 
to  steep  her  senses  in  forgetfulness.' 

"  Henry,  seeing  her  restless,  and  in  pain,  said, '  Dearest  Helen,  it 
is  time  you  took  your  dose  of  morphine  !' 

"  '  Oh  !  no,  dear  Henry,  do  not  drug  me  ;  I  shall  soon  be  asleep 
to  wake  no  more — do  not  let  me  lose  the  sight  of  you,  Yvliile  life 
lasts.  You  do  not  wish  me  lapped  in  the  sleep  of  senselessness 
before  my  time  ?' 

"  '  Oh  !  Helen,  how  can  you  say  such  things  to  me,  my  angel 
love  !' 

"  '  Dearest  Henry,  forgive  me;  I  know  you  love  me  better  than 
life,'  and  she  drew  him  to  her,  and  throwing  her  arms  around  his 
neck,  pressed  her  lips  to  his,  with  a  kiss  so  long  and  so  intense, 
that  I  thought  she  would  have  infused  her  soul  in  the  kiss,  so 
full  it  was  of  undying  love  and  devotedness.  Tears  came  to 
their  relief,  and  her  own  sorrow  seemed  chastened  by  her  tender 
efforts  to  subdue  the  agonies  of  her  lover,  whose  frame  shook 
with  the  intensity  of  his  grief. 

"  Calmed  by  this  burst  of  their  emotions,  Henry  said,  *  The  doc 
tor  had  said  the  morphine  must  be  taken;'  and  with  a  resignation 
which  Socrates  could  not  have  surpassed,  she  took  the  cup  from 
Henry's  hand,  and  said,  '  Dear  Henry,  if  this  be  my  last  moment 
of  conscious  existence,  let  me  tell  you  I  have  loved  you  with  a 
devotion  which  has  made  you  the  idol  of  my  soul,  and  now  my 
sweetest  consolation  is,  the  hope  that  you  may  yet  be  loved  by 
one,  if  not  as  well,  yet  by  one  who  can,  who  will  make  you 
happy.  My  precious  Henry,  one  more  last  kiss,  and  then  fare 
well.'  I  took  the  cup,  while  Henry  and  Helen  once  more  em 
braced  each  other ;  kisses  mingled  with  tears,  and  made  bitter  by 
the  certainty  that  they  were  indeed  the  last.  The  cup  was  then 
taken  by  Henry,  and  kissing  me,  she  said,  '  Now  let  me  drink 
the  cup.  Oh  that,  like  Christ,  an  angel  would  come  to  strengthen 
me  !'  She  drank  it  to  the  dregs ;  a  bitter  cup,  steeped  in  the  full 
consciousness  of  the  despair  and  death,  which  it  contained.  But 
so  intense  was  the  activity  of  her  mind,  it  only  soothed  her  into 
a  dozing  state,  from  which  she  would  start,  gaze  around  fearfully, 
and  seeing  us,  smile  and  doze  again. 

"  When  her  parents  entered  at  daybreak,  their  meeting  was 
most  touching;  she  tried  to  smile,  and  recall  the  thoughts  she  had 
so  often  expressed,  of  the  necessity  of  submitting  with  serenity 
to  the  decrees  of  fate,  and  as  she  kissed  her  father,  she  said, 
*  Dearest,  most  precious  father,  "we  must  endure  our  going  hence 
e'en  as  our  coming  hither.  Ripeness  is  all." 


MRS.  SMITH'S  COUSIN.  283 

"  *  My  sweet  child,'  said  the  father,  with  a  voice  trembling 
with  grief,  '  you  are  indeed  ripe  for  heaven — God  never  took  to 
himself  one  more  pure,  one  more  worthy  of  a  mansion  in  the 
skies.'  The  tears  started  to  her  eyes.  4  Oh  that  I  could  be 
lieve  ! — oh  that  I  could  hope  !  but  if  the  Bible  be  true,  what  meet- 
ness  have  I  for  the  society  of  Him  whose  existence  I  have  de 
nied  ?'  Her  mother  sunk  at  her  side  in  a  swoon,  and  we  were 
compelled  to  carry  her  out  of  the  chamber.  Now  it  was  she 
felt  the  worthlessness  of  a  belief  which  resulted  in  annihilation. 
I  do  not  like  to  recall  this  fearful  scene.  There  was  no  one  of 
us  who  knew  how  to  offer  the  consolations  she  required.  We 
feared  to  repeat  to  her  promises  of  the  Scriptures  which  she  could 
not  accept,  and  which,  she  said,  was  like  offering  water  to  the  lip 
of  one  dying  with  thirst,  without  the  ability  to  swallow — and  so 
she  sunk  amidst  our  sighs  and  tears,  into  the  slumbers  of  the 
tomb." 

Mrs.  Smith  was  unable  to  continue  her  narrative  for  the  tears 
which  now  interrupted  her  utterance. 

"  Before,"  continued  Mrs.  Smith,  "  the  effect  of  her  death 
had  ceased  to  affect  me,  and  to  make  me  fear  whether  there  might 
not  be  something  hollow  and  worthless  in  the  sentiments  I  had 
so  sedulously  sought  to  imbibe,  this  scene  was  renewed  at  my 
own  home.  My  cousin  Sarah  L*****,  the  widow  of  a  very  elo 
quent  preacher,  came  to  my  house  in  the  last  stages  of  decline,  to 
pass  the  winter  with  me  in  Babylon  the  Less — in  the  hope  that 
she  might  be  benefited  by  a  change  of  air.  She  was  only  twen 
ty-three,  and  had  buried  in  one  year,  some  years  before,  her 
husband  and  child  and  mother  and  brother;  and  since  then,  had 
lost  her  only  brother  and  sister,  and  was  now  all  alone  in  the 
world.  When  these  fearful  bereavements  reached  her,  she  was 
full  of  buoyancy  of  heart — life  had  been  to  her  one  summer's 
day — and  now  all  was  desolate  and  drear.  I  feared  to  meet  her, 
though  I  rejoiced  in  the  opportunity  of  tendering  my  little  aid  to 
make  her  last  days  happy.  When  she  reached  us,  our  utmost 
hopes  were  bounded  by  the  spring.  She  was  the  most  lovely 
image  of  decline  I  had  ever  seen — her  beauty  was  so  spiritual, 
that  it  seemed  as  if  she  had  only  to  be  etherealized  to  soar  away 
into  heaven..  Her  spirit  was  chastened,  and  weaned  away  from  all 
that  was  earthly,  so  that  she  seemed  to  me  more  an  angel  than  a 
human  soul ;  and  then  her  smile,  so  languid  yet  so  sweet,  that  I 
could  not  bear  to  be  away  from  her  for  a  single  hour.  She  could 
converse  but  little,  and  I  was  surprised  at  the  deep  sense  of  her 
sinfulness  of  heart;  that  she  who  was  an  angel  of  purity,  feared 
that  she  was  not  yet  reconciled  to  God.  Her  faith  was  per 
fectly  childlike ;  her  confidence  in  the  truth  of  the  Scriptures  as 


284  PETER  SCHLEMIHL. 

real  as  in  her  own  existence,  and  her  only  wish  was  to  be  per 
fectly  submissive  to  the  will  of  God,  and  to  be  assured  that  she 
really  trusted  in  the  merits  and  mediation  of  Christ  as  her  God 
and  Saviour;  and  when  she  expressed  these  thoughts  to  me,  and 
I  expressed  my  firm  belief  that  of  all  the  beings  on  earth,  she 
was  the  most  Christlike  and  divine,  she  would  look  sad  and  sor 
rowful,  and  say,  '  Dear  cousin,  you  do  not  know  your  own 
heart,  and  cannot,  therefore,  judge  of  the  condition  of  mine;' 
and  when  our  cousin  Mary  came  to  see  her,  I  was  astonished 
and  perplexed  at  the  sympathy  which  was  instantly  manifested ; 
for  Mary  was  distinguished  for  her  piety  and  zeal.  To  her,  my 
sweet  cousin  told  of  all  her  trials  and  temptations,  and  seemed  to 
drink  in  with  intense  avidity  all  she  said,  which  was  altogether 
unintelligible  to  me,  for  so  far  from  combatting  any  of  these  strange 
views  of  her  sinfulness,  Mary  avowed  that  they  were  but  par 
tial  conceptions  of  their  fearful  reality;  but  then  she  had  the 
most  felicitous  and  soothing  promises  from  the  Scriptures,  which 
seemed  as  if  they  must  have  been  written  to  suit  just  the  frame 
of  feeling  expressed  by  our  cousin  ;  and  then,  too,  the  whole  body 
of  devotional  lyrics  were  at  her  command,  and  she  sung  to  her 
cousin  Sarah,  with  a  voice  of  the  sweetest  harmony,  hymns  which 
seemed  to  waft  her  rapt  spirit  to  the  very  gates  of  Paradise,  while 
her  countenance  beamed  with  a  beauty  of  expression  altogether 
angelic.  'Oh  !'  thought  I,  *  that  I  knew  how  to  convey  to  cousin 
such  consolations.'  Alas  !  what  would  I  have  given,  if  Helen  could 
have  had  a  cousin  Mary  to  have  been  in  my  place  during  her  fatal 
illness.  Not  that  I  believed  these  views  were  just  and  true,  but 
I  saw  they  had  so  sweet  an  effect,  and  were  so  tranquilizing  in 
their  tendencies.  The  last  day  of  her  sufferings  was  evidently 
at  hand — and  the  evening  of  the  day  before  she  died,  she  sent 
for  cousin  Mary,  and  said  to  her,  '  Dear  cousin,  stay  with  me  till  I 
am  gone  ;'  and  we  both  watched  beside  her,  during  the  night,  and 
their  whispers  only  reached  me  as  I  lay  on  a  sofa — but  it  seemed 
more  like  the  converse  of  those  already  in  a  world  of  blessedness, 
than  in  a  vale  of  tears.  Mary  recited  hymns,  passages  of  the 
Scriptures,  and  often  sang  for  her,  till  the  day  dawned.  She  then 
asked  us  to  draw  aside  the  curtains  of  the  window,  for,  said  she, 
*  let  me  see  the  sun  arise  once  more.'  It  was  a  clear,  cold,  frosty 
morning,  and  the  day  star  was  still  shining,  when  the  day  broke, 
and  the  sun  rolled  up,  and  shone  full  in  her  face.  With  a  smile 
of  utmost  sweetness,  she  thanked  us  to  let  down  the  curtains,  and 
said,  *  I  shall  never  see  that  sun  set ;'  and  at  nine  she  took  leave 
of  my  husband,  and  gave  us  her  farewell  kisses,  renewing  her 
thousand  thanks  for  all  our  love.  This  done,  we  stood  around  her, 
dear  Mary  still  comforting  her  with  the  promises  so  suited  to  a 


DEATH  OF  MRS.  SARAH  W.  L .  285 

soul  just  bathing  her  feet  in  the  waters  of  the  Jordan  of  death, 
when  she  again  spoke — '  Dear  cousin,  I  cannot  see  you' — and 
paused — 'but  I  see  Jesus  ! — O  how  bright !' — and  while  we  were 
bending  over  her,  doubtful  if  her  soul  had  not  taken  its  long  flight, 
she  made  one  more  last  effort  to  speak — and  we  heard  her  say, 
'  I  would  not  be  back  for  worlds  !' — and  so  she  died — the  most 
lovely  image  of  purity  and  peace  I  had  ever  beheld  or  can  hope 
to  see." 

"  And  what  effect  had  all  this  upon  you  ?"  asked  the  Gentle 
man  in  Black. 

"  For  awhile  I  felt  an  irresistible  desire  to  adopt  the  doctrines 
that  led  to  so  happy  a  death — and  cousin  Mary  was  very  earnest 
I  should  do  so  ;  but  I  found  to  do  this,  I  must  undergo  a  discipline 
of  soul  and  a  change  of  feeling  to  which  I  was  utterly  averse — and, 
though  my  pious  cousin  had  no  conception  of  the  doubts  enter 
tained  by  me  on  these  subjects,  yet  so  it  was,  that  what  seemed 
to  her  to  be  the  plainest  of  all  truths,  appeared  to  me  full  of  inex 
plicable  difficulties ;  and  as  time  passed  on,  I  found  myself  in  new 
states  of  mind,  which  I  had  neither  expected,  nor  sought  for. 

"  My  faith  in  the  Scriptures  became  no  more  firm,  while  all 
hope  of  any  degree  of  certainty  as  to  the  ultimate  truth  of  philoso 
phy  faded  away,  and  left  me  just  where  I  am,  neither  a  skeptic 
nor  a  believer  in  anything. 

"  My  pursuits  in  this  direction  were  at  an  end.  I  recurred  to 
my  early  and  fond  desires  to  enjoy  the  distinctions  and  pleasures 
of  fashionable  life.  I  know  only  of  the  present — of  this  I  am  cer 
tain.  Indeed,  I  found  all  my  efforts  at  certainty  hopeless.  After 
long  study,  I  sometimes  thought  I  had  obtained  an  absolute  or 
intuitive  truth,  but  the  next  day  it  was  gone.  The  task  was  like 
grappling  so  many  slippery  eels  immersed  in  a  vase  of  turbid 
water ;  the  moment  I  felt  I  had  got  hold  of  one,  it  slipped  out 
of  my  hand ;  so  I  relinquished  the  task.  I  did  not  need  to  go  to 
any  school  of  philosophy  to  learn  that  this  was  a  real  world,  in 
which,  to  use  the  candid  confession  I  once  heard  made  by  an  old 
minister,  who  had  been  picturing  life  in  dismal  colors,  when,  as 
if  conscience  stricken  for  his  ingratitude,  he  said,  '  after  all, 
brethren,  the  world  does  afford  some  fine  pickings.'  With  such 
thoughts  I  gave  up  the  pursuit  of  the  real,  and  determined  to  con 
tent  myself  with  the  apparent. 

*' '  Money,'  says  the  great  Apostle  of  Pantheism,*  *  is  the  prose 

*  Rev.  R.  W.  Emerson's  Essays,  2d  series,  p.  223. — To  show  the  last 
phase  of  development  of  Unitarian  Christianity,  I  beg  to  add  the  following 
extract  from  these  Essays.  He  says,  on  page  263,  "Jesus  would  absorb  the 
race;  but  Tom  Paine,  or  the  coarsest  blasphemer,  helps  humanity  by  resisting 
this  exuberance  of  power.  Hence  the  immense  benefits  of  party  in  politics, 


286  PETER  SCHLEMIHL. 

of  life,  and  in  its  effects  and  laws  as  beautiful  as  roses.'  This 
great  solvent  of  the  Alps,  which  had  separated  me  from  the  Italian 
skies  of  fashionable  life,  my  husband  had  acquired  and  placed  at 
my  disposal,  and  you  have  seen  this  night  my  first  essay  on  the 
sunny  side  of  the  mountain,  and  how  sadly  my  bright  sunshine 
has  been  dimmed  by  dying  lamps  and  closed  in  by  a  shower  of 
spermaceti.  But  to  make  an  end  of  my  confessions.  The  future 
may  or  may  not  be — and  I  hope  I  have  no  desire  to  impair  the  hap 
piness  of  others,  while  I  seek  my  own.  If  I  knew  anything  better 
than  what  I  seek,  1  would  pursue  it  with  the  same  steadiness  of 
purpose — but  I  find  that  many  of  those  who  are  deemed  pietists 
have  the  same  appreciation  of  this  world  that  I  have — and  so  I 
have  come  to  the  conclusion  which  Shakspeare  has  so  well  ex 
pressed  : — 

'  Nothing  is  either  good  or  bad,  but  thinking  makes  it  so.' " 


CHAPTER  XII. 

Visit  of  Mrs.  Smith  to  the  "community"  at  Rock  Creek — Dispersion  of  the 
Free  Inquirers — Mrs.  Smith's  opinion  of  Fourierism — Story  of  Jane  Oracle; 
her  devotion  to  Socialism — Her  attachment  to  "  Cousin  Richard" — Joins 
the  Fourierists — Distress  of  her  parents — Mrs.  Smith  enlisted  to  recover 
her — Goes  to  Rock  Creek — Finds  Jane  scouring  knives  and  forks — Their 
gossip  of  Babylon — State  of  Jane's  mind — Sees  a  Babylonian  dandy;  his 
employment — Scene  in  Jane's  chamber — The  gloves — A  conversation — 
A  dinner  scene — The  supper  and  ball  described — Jane  spends  the  Sunday 
with  Mrs.  Smith — She  recovers  her  friend — Jane's  reception  at  home — The 
Gentleman  in  Black  gives  his  opinions  of  Fourierism. 

See  Appendix  G.  for  statements  of  the  system  of  Fourier. 

THE  Gentleman  in  Black  expressed  his  high  gratification  at  the 
confessions  of  Mrs.  Smith,  and  asked,  "What  became  of  your 
*  coterie'  of  Free  Inquirers?" 

"Most  of  them  were  here  this  evening,"  replied  Mrs.  Smith. 
"They  corne  to  see  me,  and  sometimes  talk  their  mystic  nonsense 
to  me ;  but  I  am  no  longer  interested  in  their  inquiries,  and  so  I 

as  it  reveals  faults  of  character  in  a  chief,  which  the  intellectual  force  of  other 
persons,  with  ordinary  opportunity,  and  not  hurled  into  the  aphelion  by  hatred, 
could  not  have  seen.  Since  we  are  so  stupid,  what  benefit  that  there  should 
be  two  stupidities  /"  Can  anything  exceed  this  in  blasphemy  ? — P.  SCULEMIHL. 


JANE   GRACIE,  THE  FOURIERIST.  287 

laugh  at  them,  and  ask,  'How  soon  the  doctrines  of  Kant,  and 
Hegel,  and  Heine  will  have  become  the  myths  of  an  age  of 
benighted  Germans?'  Fourierism  has  never  had  any  attrac 
tions  for  me,  and  I  have  felt  myself  content  with  the  position  in 
which  I  find  myself,  nor  can  they  create  a  phalanstery  half  so 
beautiful  as  my  own  house.  Indeed,  the  only  one  I  have  ever 
visited,  was  every  way  distasteful.'' 

"  Indeed  !"  said  the  Gentleman  in  Black,  "  and  have  you  ever 
been  induced  to  enter  one  of  these  institutions  ?  You  have  forgot 
ten  this  in  your  confessions." 

"No,  my  visit  was  not  on  account  of  any  wish  I  have  ever  en 
tertained  in  connection  with  this  subject;  but  I  was  induced  last 
summer  to  go  to  the  Rock  Creek  Farm,  to  recover  one  of  the  love 
liest  girls  of  our  coterie,  who  had  no  bounds  to  her  enthusiasm. 
You  doubtless  noticed  her  as  being  dressed  in  lace,  with  diamonds 
in  her  hair." 

"  Oh  yes,  and  I  was  particularly  interested  in  her,  and  should 
never  have  believed  it  possible  that  she  had  ever  had  a  wish  be 
yond  the  attractions  of  a  ball-room.  Her  whole  soul  seemed 
absorbed  in  the  gayeties  of  your  party.  I  never  saw  one  wearing 
the  aspect  of  greater  joyousness  of  heart.  May  I  beg  you  will 
tell  me  your  experience  on  Fourierism." 

"  I  have  had  little  to  do  with  Fourierism,"  replied  Mrs.  Smith, 
"and  know  but  little  of  its  theory,  as  you  must  have  seen  by  the 
surprise  exhibited  by  me  in  making  scavengers  of  children.  In 
deed,  except  what  has  come  to  my  knowledge  in  connection  with 
this  young  lady,  and  the  conversations  of  some  of  our  earnest  and 
enthusiastic  ladies,  who  always  have  presented  to  me  the  fair  side 
of  this  new  system  for  the  reorganization  of  society,  I  know  next 
to  nothing,  and  I  have  thought  it  surprising  that  highly  endowed 
and  well-principled  women  can  be  found  to  lend  it  their  counte 
nance,  if  it  be  so  bad  as  it  has  been  represented.  But  they  are 
doubtless  flattered  by  the  equality  and  liberty  it  holds  forth — a 
liberty  to  do  what  seems  to  me  must  be  abhorrent  to  every  pure- 
minded  woman.  I  have  had,  I  must  confess,  my  day-dreams  of 
an  improved  condition  of  my  sex.  I  feel  our  present  position  is 
not  the  one  best  adapted  either  for  our  happiness,  or  improve 
ment.  We  are  too  often  either  the  toys  and  playthings  of  society, 
or  its  unrewarded  drudges.  Howl  wish  the  relations  of  husband 
and  wife  had  more  of  confidence,  more  of  equality  of  labor  and 
of  care  !  I  don't  like  this  classifying  of  women  into  mere  house 
hold  servants,  or  of  glittering  and  gayly-dressed  mistresses.  Let 
us  be  in  deed  and  in  truth,  the  sharers  and  partners  with  our  hus 
bands  and  brothers  of  the  burdens,  if  not  of  their  daily  duties,  yet 
of  their  solicitude  and  cares;  but  as  it  now  is,  how  little  do  sis 
ters  and  wives  know  of  what  their  brothers  and  husbands  are 


288  PETER  SCHLEMIHL. 

doing.  There  is  too  little  community  of  thought,  and  therefore 
too  little  community  of  feeling,  until  at  last  they  find  themselves 
all  but  strangers  to  the  affairs  of  those  whom  they  live  to  love, 
and  could  live  to  serve  and  sustain,  rather  than  to  amuse." 

"  My  dear  madam,"  replied  the  Gentleman  in  Black,  with  un 
usual  sobriety  of  manner,  "this  subject  is  full  of  difficulty,  and 
the  time  is  not  yet  when  your  highest  wishes  will  be  accomplished. 
That  time  will  come;  but  for  its  full  development,  society  is  to 
pass  through  many  phases  of  progress.  It  will  come." 

"Ah!  but  when,  and  where,  and  how?"  asked  Mrs.  Smith 
with  earnestness. 

"Madam,"  replied  the  Gentleman  in  Black  with  a  smile,  "  to 
answer  all  these  questions,  would  lead  me  to  give  you  my  theory 
of  development  and  progress  of  the  human  race,  which  would  be 
a  very  long,  and  perhaps  tedious  task  for  you  to  hear,  and  would 
not,  I  fear,  repay  you  for  your  attention." 

"By  no  means,"  said  Mrs.  Smith;  "I'm  all  alive  to  the  sub 
ject." 

"  Indeed  !  then  I  will  do  so  hereafter;  but  just  now  permit  me 
to  beg  you  will  tell  me  of  your  visit  to  Rock  Creek  Farm,  and  of 
your  methods  of  recovery  of  this  lovely  girl  to  the  circles  for 
which  she  seems  far  better  fitted  than  any  of  those  beehives  of 
industry,  economy,  and  labor,  by  whatever  name  they  may  be 
called." 

"I  will  do  so,  with  pleasure,"  said  Mrs.  Smith,  "if  you  will 
redeem  the  promise  you  have  just  made  me."* 

The  Gentleman  in  Black  bowed  his  acquiescence,  and  Mrs. 
Smith  proceeded  : 

"  The  young  lady  whom  you  have  seen,  is  of  a  warm  and  gene 
rous  nature,  and  in  a  past  age  would  have  made  a  devotee,  or  even 
a  St.  Bridget;  but  it  has  so  happened  that,  under  the  guidance  of 
a  transcendental  school  of  religionists,  if  they  may  be  so  called, 
she  became  a  warm  advocate  for  all  manner  of  liberty  of  opinion 
and  action.  Her  hatred  of  the  theological  dogmas  which  have, 
as  she  says,  chained  down  the  soul  in  its  aspirations,  has  extended 
to  all  the  conventional  forms  of  society  ;  and  once  loosening  her 
grasp  on  the  old  and  established  opinions,  founded  on  the  Chris 
tian  religion,  she  has  gone  on,  with  an  eagle's  flight,  into  the  high 
est  sphere  of  German  philosophy;  and  I  have  heard  her  discourse 
earnestly  in  favor  of  Rehabilitationism — a  long  word  which  she 
interpreted  to  me,  as  the  restoration  of  those  rights  to  human  na 
ture,  of  which  Christianity  has  deprived  mankind. 

"I  must  confess  it  astonished  me  to  hear  a  young  girl  whom  I 
know  to  be  as  unspotted  as  unsunned  snow,  utter  sentiments 

*  This  chapter  is  still  to  be  written — if  ever. — PETER  SCHLEMIHL. 


JANE  GRACIE.  289 

she  would  shrink  from  with  abhorrence,  if  reduced  to  practice. 
She  was  eloquent  in  describing  a  condition  of  society  of  which 
mankind  were  capable,  and  for  which  we  of  the  present  age 
were  bound  to  take  the  first  steps  in  a  course  of  improvement 
which  would  make  this  world  a  paradise,  some  three  or  four  cen 
turies  hence.  To  all  this,  I  playfully  replied  in  the  words  of  the 
old  member  of  parliament,  4  What  has  posterity  done  for  us,  that 
we  should  make  such  sacrifices  for  them  ?'  'Ah !'  she  said,  *  Chris 
tianity  has  had  its  noble  army  of  martyrs,  and  shall  social  science 
be  wanting  in  its  Confessors?  Must  we  do  nothing  to  show  the 
selfish,  anti-social  race  of  man,  where  happiness  is  to  be  found? 
That  every  blessing  now  possessed,  is  capable  of  being  heightened 
a  thousand-fold,  by  making  others  equally  happy.' 

"While  my  dear  Jane  Grade  was  thus  occupied,  her  parents 
were  too  busy  to  know  anything  of  their  child:  her  father  in 
making  money,  and  her  mother  in  her  devotion  to  the  church  and 
fashionable  life.  The  church  Jane  attended  only  to  be  more  and 
more  disgusted  with  formulas  of  what  to  her  was  an  effete  sys 
tem  of  religion,  in  which  the  greatest  of  all  changes,  the  regene 
ration  of  the  soul,  was  claimed  to  be  perfected  by  the  simplest  of 
all  rites.  To  her  mind,  the  old  phrase  of  regeneration  embodied 
a  grand  idea,  which,  she  said,  had  been  shadowed  forth  by  Jesus 
and  his  disciples;  and  the  example  of  the  early  Christians  having 
all  things  in  common,  was  with  her  the  beginning  of  the  grand 
system  fully  developed  by  the  apostle  of  freedom  and  of  society, 
Charles  Fourier. 

"It  is  strange  how  such  a  girl,"  continued  Mrs.  Smith,  "  can 
travel  on  in  a  path  of  thought  and  feeling  like  this,  without  those 
nearest  her  having  the  slightest  conception  of  what  is  at  work  in  her 
bosom.  She  doubtless  deemed  her  father,  a  dear  good  father,  too 
deeply  immersed  in  his  gains  ever  to  be  recovered,  and  her  mother 
as  bigoted  to  the  mere  outside  show  of  a  religion,  which  in  her  mind 
was  only  the  first  step  of  progress  in  man's  recovery  of  his  high 
destiny,  from  which  he  had  fallen  by  becoming  isolated,  (that  was 
the  word) — in  families— families  led  to  tribes — tribes  led  to  na 
tions,  nations  to  war,  and  all  its  desolations.  Society,  she  said 
with  too  much  truth,  I  fear,  is  a  state  of  warfare — laws  were  made 
for  the  protection  of  property — man's  life  was  set  down  as  worth 
less,  when  money  was  at  stake,  estimated  by  some  nations  at  the 
cost  of  a  horse,  and  by  others  at  the  price  of  a  halter. 

"  There  was,  out  of  our  coterie,  but  one  person  to  whom  she 

told  her  thoughts  and  her  aspirations,  and  this  was  the  son  of  a 

very  wealthy  family,  with  whom  her  father  had  been  associated 

in  early  life,  as  the  partner  of  his  commercial  house.     This  son 

19 


290  PETER  SCHLEMIHL. 

has  all  the  qualities  of  excellence  and  virtue ;  he  has  early  de 
voted  himself  to  science,  and  was  admitted,  quite  young,  to  mem 
bership  in  the  church  of  which  his  father  is  a  ruling  elder. 
These  parents  had  from  their  infancy  wished  their  son  and  daugh 
ter  should  cement  their  old  friendship  by  the  ties  of  love  and  mar 
riage.  From  childhood,  they  had  had  the  consciousness  of  this 
their  fondest  wish,  and  as  they  grew  up,  they  had  looked  upon 
each  other  as  destined  to  be  husband  and  wife.  This  sentiment  had 
been  fostered  by  the  parents  of  Richard  Gray,  supplying  him  from 
his  earliest  years  with  beautiful  gifts  to  be  presented  by  him  to  Jane 
on  her  birth-day,  and  on  New  Year's  day,  and  in  like  manner  Jane 
had  her  appropriate  gifts,  usually  the  work  of  her  own  needle,  to 
send  to  '  Cousin  Richard,'  as  he  was  then  called. 

"Richard,  at  the  time  I  made  the  acquaintance  with  Jane,  was 
in  college,  hard  at  his  studies,  and  Jane  busied  herself  at  home, 
reading  and  studying  all  sorts  of  books,  dipping  into  German  and 
French,  and  Italian — 'everything  by  turns  and  nothing  long;' 
though  such  was  her  readiness  to  acquire  languages,  that  she 
speaks  these  with  the  facility  of  a  native. 

»*  My  dear  Helen  Percy  and  herself  became  acquainted  while 
studying  German  together  under  the  same  teacher;  both  equally 
earnest  and  enthusiastic  ;  and  so  Jane,  though  very  young,  was  ad 
mitted  as  the  companion  of  Helen,  into  the  circle  of '  Free  Inquirers,' 
where  I  found  her  at  my  entrance.  As  the  dear  friend  of  Helen, 
we  soon  became  intimate,  and  from  some  reason,  I  can't  say  why, 
perhaps  it  was  because  she  saw  Helen  loved  me  so  well,  and 
made  me  her  confidant,  Jane  must  confide  in  me,  too,  and  thus 
I  became  the  repository  of  all  her  little  trials.  She  told  me  of  her 
father  and  mother — their  inability  to  sympathize  with  her ;  and 
by  and  by  of  Richard  Gray ;  and  how  he  wrote  her  letters  so  lov 
ing  and  so  pious,  arid  reproaching  her  for  what  he  was  pleased 
to  call  her  «  skepticism;'  and  how  she  dreaded  to  meet  him,  and 
that  she  felt  he  never  could  love  her — that  they  never  could  think 
alike,  and  ought  never  to  be  married;  and,  then,  if  she  refused 
him,  how  miserable  it  would  make  both  his  parents  and  her  own  ; 
and  that  he,  too,  would  be  the  most  wretched  of  all — that  he  was 
good,  amiable,  but  then  such  a  bigot !  l  No!  no  !'  she  would  say, 
with  tears  in  her  eyes,  'if  Christianity  has  had  its  self-sacrificing 
disciples,  so  ought  socialism.  I  must  be  a  martyr — I  am  content 
to  be  one — but  oh  that  I  could  be  one  without  inflicting  misery  on 
hearts  I  so  dearly  love  !' 

"About  two  years  or  more  ago,  her  Cousin  Richard  graduated, 
and,  contrary  to  the  wishes  of  Jane,  set  out  on  a  tour  of  Europe. 
And  Jane, no  longer  under  the  restraintof  his  presence,  determined, 
at  least  while  he  was  absent,  and  perhaps  for  life,  to  follow  out  a 


291 

plan  which  had  long  lain  in  her  bosom,  of  joining  the  Community 
of  Rock  Creek. 

"I  did  all  in  my  power  to  dissuade  her  from  doing  so.  When 
she  expressed  her  wish  and  purpose  to  her  parents,  they  were 
taken  by  surprise,  not  less  astounding  than  it  was  painful.  The 
mother  woke  up  to  the  consciousness  that  her  daughter  was  an 
infidel,  and  her  father  that  his  child  was  crazy.  Their  methods 
of  meeting  her  wishes  were  diverse,  but  equally  unfortunate,  and 
had  no  other  effect  than  to  confirm  her  in  her  resolution.  'If 
you  leave  my  house,  you  must  never  hope  to  return,'  were  the 
last  words  of  her  angry  and  unyielding  father,  when  she  made 
him  acquainted  with  her  wishes. 

"Knowing  from  their  daughter,  the  confidence  she  had  reposed 
in  me,  though  with  no  very  kind  sentiments  for  me  at  the  mo 
ment,  they  appealed  to  me  for  aid.  And  after  a  long  consultation, 
in  which  I  satisfied  them  of  my  innocence  of  fostering  or  favoring 
any  such  sentiments  as  those  adopted  by  their  wayward  and  wil 
ful  child,  so  they  called  her,  I  advised  them  to  leave  to  experience 
to  work  the  changes  we  all  desired. 

"  To  this  her  father  reluctantly  consented,  though  he  said  he 
could  not  and  would  not  aid  her  in  any  way,  manner  or  form — to 
do  so  would  be  to  share  her  sins,  and  he  would  not  do  it — could 
not  do  it.  As  to  the  mother,  she  could  in  no  way  be  brought  to 
see  the  expediency  of  such  a  course  ;  she  said,  the  society  of  these 
infidels  could  only  confirm  her  child  in  her  dreadful  apostacy. 

"  It  resulted  in  Jane's  leaving  Babylon  for  the  Rock  Creek 
Community,  unaided  by  her  father,  and  in  despite  of  the  tears  of 
her  mother.  Proud  of  the  sacrifices  she  was  called  upon  to  make, 
she  took  merely  the  plainest  of  her  dresses,  and  only  as  much  mo 
ney  as  would  pay  her  expenses  there  ;  all  else  was  left  by  her, 
with  a  feeling  of  proud  contempt. 

"  Months  elapsed,  and  they  heard  nothing  from  Jane,  and  then 
Jane  wrote  how  perfectly  happy  she  was,  but  gave  no  particulars 
what  she  was  doing.  She  told  them,  'she  knew  of  no  hours  of 
ennui;  labor  was  delightful,  when  associated,  as  she  was,  with 
persons  of  high  intellectual  culture  and  refinement.'  After 
awhile,  she  wrote  to  rne  that  '  at  last  the  grand  enigma  of  human 
happiness  was  solved,  and  there  would  soon  be  no  such  hateful 
distinctions  as  existed  when  the  rich  were  miserable  for  want  of 
occupation,  and  the  poor  wretched  from  excess  of  labor.' 

"  Her  parents  came  to  me  from  time  to  time  for  comfort  and 
assurance.  I  told  them  time  alone  could  aid  them,  and  they  must 
let  her  alone.  To  this  they  reluctantly  consented.  As  for  poor 
Richard,  he  was  in  despair;  his  letters  to  her  parents  were  full  of 
entreaty  to  unceasing  effort  for  her  recovery  from  the  fatal  course 
she  was  pursuing,  of  which  he  said  he  had  seen  too  many  exam- 


292  PETER  SCHLEMIHL. 

pies  abroad,  to  inspire  hope  that  she  could  come  out  of  such  an 
Association,  the  pure-minded  girl  she  was  when  she  entered  into 
the  Community.  All  which  fears,  I  was  sure,  resulted  from  dif 
ference  in  the  condition  of  morals  on  the  continent  and  in  this 
country.  Still,  I  could  not  but  deeply  sympathize  with  him  in 
all  the  grief  his  letters  so  eloquently  expressed. 

"  A  few  months  since,  Richard  arrived  from  his  continental 
travels.  He  came  at  once  to  see  me:  I  was  delighted  to  find  him 
greatly  improved  in  his  manners  and  appearance,  without  the 
slightest  foppery  of  French  society.  I  told  him  of  my  views  re 
specting  Jane,  and  that  it  would  not  be  expedient  for  him  to  go  to 
the  Rock  Creek  farm ;  I  would  do  so,  and  I  did  not  despair  of  suc 
cess.  Richard  had  brought  with  him,  at  my  request,  among  other 
presents,  a  beautiful  inlaid  box  of  Parisian  gloves,  a  size  too  small, 
but  marked  with  her  number.  Now  gloves  were  a  passion  with 
Jane ;  and  the  strongest  tie  which  at  first  bound  me  to  her,  was 
the  discovery  that  my  gloves  were  a  perfect  fit  for  her.  My 
husband  had  sent  out  my  glove  to  a  distinguished  maker  in  Paris ; 
and  Jane  through  me  had  been  supplied  by  the  same  manufac 
turer;  and  it  occurred  to  me,  that  I  could  turn  this  present  to 
good  account.  I  knew  Jane  idolized  her  hand,  which  certainly  is 
perfectly  beautiful." 

The  Gentleman  in  Black  smiled. 

"  I  do  not  compliment  my  own  hand,"  said  Mrs.  Smith,  quickly, 
"by  saying  so." 

"My  dear  madam,"  replied  the  Gentleman  in  Black,  "your 
hand  needs  no  compliment — it  is  beyond  all  praise." 

"Oh,  no  !"  said  Mrs.  Smith,  playfully  putting  her  hands  behind 
her,  "  you  must  permit  me  to  say  so  much,  because  my  story 
turns  on  this  pivot."  She  continued  her  narrative: 

"When  my  husband  next  went  to  Bostonia  on  business,  which 
is  of  frequent  occurrence,  I  accompanied  him;  and  the  morning  of 
our  arrival,  I  took  a  carriage  and  my  baggage,  and  set  out  to  make  a 
visit  to  Jane.  The  road  was  no  way  attractive  on  leaving  the  city, 
and  after  an  hour's  ride,  I  found  myself  at  the  Rock  Creek  Commu 
nity  farm-house.  It  wore  all  the  aspects  of  a  house  of  larger  size  than 
is  usual,  with  a  number  of  out-buildings.  I  arrived  on  a  Saturday 
morning  about  eleven  o'clock.  The  lady  of  the  principal  received 
me  with  grace  and  courtesy.  I  told  her  the  object  of  my  visit. 
She  ordered  my  trunk  to  be  carried  to  a  chamber,  where  every 
thing  was  simple,  and  in  perfect  neatness  in  all  its  arrangements. 
The  lady  aided  me  in  arranging  my  dress,  and  then  said,  'Your 
friend  Jane  is  at  this  moment  engaged,  but  as  she  will  be  occupied 
for  an  hour  or  more,  perhaps  you  will  be  willing  to  visit  her  at 
her  work.'  I  expressed  my  pleasure  to  do  so ;  and  she  led  me 
into  a  large  kitchen  in  which  there  were  quite  a  number  of  fe- 


JANE  GRACIE'S  OCCUPATION.  293 

males,  all  at  work,  some  making  bread,  others  ironing  clothing,  and 
the  like  domestic  duties, and  my  lovely  Jane  was  seated  with  a  large 
tray  of  knives  and  forks,  and  a  bristol-brick  beside  her,  with  a 
scouring  board  on  her  lap,  scouring  knives,  engaged  at  the  instant 
in  a  gay  humored  chat  with  the  females  around  her. 

"  The  instant  she  heard  my  voice,  she  jumped  up,  and,  regard 
less  of  all  consequences,  threw  her  arms  round  my  neck,  and 
powdered  the  skirts  of  my  dress  with  the  dust  from  her  check 
apron.  She  soon  discovered  the  effects  of  her  eagerness,  and 
laughing,  said,  *  See  how  we  despise  the  gay  trappings  of  society ;' 
looking  at  her  own  dress,  which  was  of  the  coarsest  kind,  and 
such  as  no  servant  of  mine  would  consent  to  wear  for  a  single 
day. 

"  I  seated  myself  on  a  stool  beside  her,  apparently  unconscious 
of  all  around  me,  and  she  renewed  her  labors,  while  I  talked  all 
the  while  in  a  gay  tone,  though,  as  I  incidentally  spoke  of  our 
mutual  friends,  I  could  see  on  her  face,  for  an  instant,  shades  of 
sadness.  But  avoiding  every  topic  which  could  pain  her,  I  went 
on  with  the  gossip  of  Babylon,  as  I  would  have  done  had  we  met 
in  a  saloon  surrounded  with  all  the  elegancies  of  fashion,  instead 
of  a  kitchen,  offensive  from  the  steam  of  boiling  clothes,  the  fumes 
of  turnips,  and  cabbage,  and  meats,  in  process  of  cooking,  and  all 
disagreeable  perfumes,  such  as  are  only  met  with  in  the  kitchens  of 
poor-houses  and  penitentiaries. 

"  She  asked  me,  if  I  could  endure  the  compound  of «  villainous 
smells'  by  which  they  were  visited.  I  told  her,  if  she  could  en 
dure  it  for  a  year  and  more,  I  might  survive  it  for  a  few  hours. 
She  said,  in  a  sad  tone,  'It  is  not  the  fragrance  of  roses,  but  it  is 
useful  and  necessary,  and  we  must  in  this  life  look  to  the  useful 
rather  than  the  pleasant,  if  we  hope  to  accomplish  anything  in 
life.  This  scouring  of  knives  and  forks,'  she  continued,  with  a 
forced  smile,  '  after  all,  is  not  the  easiest  work  in  the  world.'  I 
asked  her,  *  How  it  was  that  she  came  to  prefer  this  to  all  the 
other  departments  of  labor  ?'  saying, '  I  supposed  this  was,  of  course, 
the  vocation,  of  all  others,  for  which  she  found  herself  best  fitted?' 

"Jane  shook  her  head,  and,  looking  down,  rubbed  away  at  her 
scouring-board.  So  soon  as  she  could  speak,  having  suppressed 
the  rising  emotion  in  her  heart,  she  said,  *  No,  dear  Mrs.  Smith, 
it  is  not  so.  I  had  hoped  to  have  found  myself  useful  here  as  a 
teacher  of  some  one  or  more  of  the  languages  I  have  acquired,  or 
of  the  accomplishments  to  which  I  have  devoted  so  much  of  my 
time.  But  you  know  I  came  here,  not  as  a  boarder,  but  as  an 
operative.  My  father  would  not  aid  me,  and  so  I  brought  no 
thing  but  my  hands,  and  a  heart  devoted  to  the  work  of  the  re-or 
ganization  of  society.  Here  an  experiment  is  necessarily  limited 


294  PETER  SCHLEMIHL. 

to  our  present  means.  In  a  phalanx,  all  the  conditions  of  human 
life  are  suited,  but  not  so  here.  We  have  to  labor  here  as  we 
may  be  most  useful. 

"'When  I  reached  this  place,'  she  continued,  'every  depart 
ment  was  filled  except  that  of  scullion  to  the  kitchen,  which  had 
been  vacated  by  the  daughter  of  a  clergyman,  who  had  consented 
to  return  to  the  slavery  of  society,  as  a  young  wife.  I  had,  there 
fore,  no  choice  but  to  return  or  remain.  I  did  not  hesitate,  and  here 
you  see  me.  It  was  not  so  pleasant  at  first,  but  it  was  labor,  and 
labor  is  honorable ;  far  more  worthy  of  me  than  the  wretched  life 
of  insipidity  to  which  I  was  born — rising  from  a  bed  upon  which 
I  had  had  no  sweet  sleep,  to  be  dressed  by  a  maid,  and  spend  an 
hour  in  the  combing  and  arrangement  of  my  hair;  then  to  ride 
out  and  make  some  dozen  wearisome  calls,  on  tame,  stupid,  fash 
ionable  people,  whose  range  of  ideas  were  all  about  the  church, 
the  latest  style  of  dress,  or  the  opera,  and  to  return,  jaded,  to  a 
dinner  for  which  I  had  no  appetite — then  to  doze  awhile  before 
dressing  for  the  evening,  the  work  of  another  hour,  and  after  all 
this,  to  find  myself  called  upon  to  amuse  a  gentleman,  with  whom 
I  had  no  single  feeling  in  common;  to  play  to  him  music  he  could 
not  comprehend,  and  task  my  wits  for  some  topic  of  trifling  con 
versation,  with  which  he  had  the  least  degree  of  familiarity.' 

"  I  laughed  heartily  at  the  terrible  picture  she  had  drawn  of 
city  life. 

"  '  You  may  laugh,  dear  Mrs.  Smith,  but  you  know  'tis  true 
to  the  letter.  Here  I  rise  at  five  in  the  morning,  wash  and  dress 
myself  in  ten  minutes,  comb  my  own  hair,  and,  if  the  weather  be 
fine,  take  a  long  walk  with  some  one  or  more  of  our  ladies  or  gen 
tlemen,  as  it  may  please  me.  We  have  the  same  literary  tastes, 
we  read  the  same  books,  we  meet  at  the  same  table,  we  aid  each 
other  in  our  labors  ;  two  evenings  in  a  week  we  dance  in  our  din- 
ing-hall,  and  have  ample  time  for  mental  culture.  Now,  though 
this  is  but  a  most  imperfect  exhibition  of  what  a  Phalanstery 
would  be,  yet  can  you  doubt  I  am  far  happier  here  than  1  was  in 
Babylon  ?' 

"  I  listened  quietly,  as  if  all  this  was  a  matter  of  course,  and 
Jane  was  evidently  a  little  surprised  that  it  produced  so  little  im 
pression  upon  me,  and  then  I  again  recurred  to  the  scenes  of  home. 
She  at  first  spoke  little  of  her  parents  ;  their  severity,  as  she  felt 
it  to  be,  had  had  a  hardening  influence  on  her  heart,  and  she  cher 
ished  the  proud  feeling  that  she  was  a  martyr  to  the  cause  of  so 
cial  reform.  I  chose  not  to  perceive  this  feeling,  but  recalled,  in 
the  course  of  our  conversation,  many  pleasing  incidents  in  the  so 
cial  circles  of  our  city,  told  her  who  were  engaged  and  who  were 
married,  and  how  happy  they  were,  and  what  beautiful  babies 


THE  BABYLONIAN  DANDY.  295 

had  made  their  appearance  among  her  familiar  friends,  and  the 
names  they  bore — of  the  operas  which  had  been  brought  out,  and 
were  to  be  brought  out  the  coming  winter,  the  different  singers, 
and  their  powers  of  voice,  and  how  much  I  had  enjoyed  my  visits 
to  the  opera,  of  which  I  knew  she  was  passionately  fond. 

"  And  so  the  time  passed  away  til]  the  knives  and  forks  were 
all  polished  and  laid  away.  Untying  her  apron,  and  hanging  it 
up,  she  said,  *  Now  I  am  at  leisure  till  after  dinner  ;'  and  she  then 
took  me  over  the  building,  introduced  me  as  we  met  the  inmates, 
and  told  me  their  several  duties.  They  were  all  dressed  appro 
priately  to  their  different  labors,  yet  all  wore  dresses  coarse  and 
cheap,  and  shoes  which  would  be  regarded  heavy  anywhere  but 
in  the  community.  The  utmost  cordiality  of  manner  and  freedom 
of  intercourse  seemed  to  exist  among  the  members.  It  being 
Saturday,  most  of  the  scholars  in  the  Institution  had  returned  to 
their  families  for  the  day,  to  return  on  the  following  Monday. 

"  We  walked  over  the  farm,  and  there  we  saw  the  male  members 
in  their  rustic  dresses  at  work — one  man  in  a  Panama  hat,  which 
flapped  down  on  all  sides,  and  a  short  jacket,  with  pantaloons 
reaching  only  to  his  ankles,  was  engaged  in  the  singular  task  of 
hanging  out  clothes  upon  a  line  to  dry.  As  we  passed,  he  made 
us  a  bow  with  great  grace  of  manner,  and  cried  out — *  II  faut  se 
conformer  aux  nouveJles  modes.'  Jane  replied,  » Cela  est  abso- 
lument  necessaire  dans  le  siecle  ou  nous  vivons.' 

"  I  asked,  *  what  this  could  mean  ?'  Jane  laughed  and  said, 
1  There  is  an  example  of  the  transforming  influence  of  associated 
labor.  In  me  you  see  one  of  the  fashionable  girls  of  Babylon,  who 
was  wont  to  appear  in  all  the  elaborate  paraphernalia  of  fashion 
able  attire,  about  the  hours  of  one  and  three  o'clock  in  Broadway, 
of  a  summer's  day,  with  my  veil  and  parasol,  to  saunter  into 
shops,  and  grimace  to  my  dear  friends  as  they  passed.  Now  the 
veil  and  parasol  are  superseded  by  this  deep  sun-bonnet;  and  that 
strange-looking  man,  who  is  so  usefully  occupied,  was  once  one 
of  those  admirably  dressed  men,  who  serve  as  manikins  for  mer 
chant  tailors  to  show  the  perfectibility  of  their  dress  coats  upon — 
and  yet  you  see  him  here.  He  is  a  strange  mortal !  for  though 
he  is  devoted  to  the  experiment  we  are  making  here,  yet  all  the 
while  is  a  most  bigoted  person,  believing  in  all  the  traditions  of 
Episcopacy,  and  thinking  if  we  were  but  confirmed  by  the  Bishop, 
Heaven  would  be  begun  on  earth.' 

"  It  was  certainly,"  continued  Mrs.  Smith,  "a  novel  case,  and 

one  which  I  afterwards  learned  had  tested  the  patience  and  the 

principles  of  the  Fourierists  no  little — but  they  were  pledged  to 

unchartered  liberty  of  opinions,  and  had  to  submit  to  the  infliction. 

"  *  But,'  I  asked,  '  why  make  a  female  drudge  of  him  ?'    «  Ah !' 


296  PETER  SCHLEMIHL. 

she  said,  laughing,  *  what  else  is  he  fit  for  ?  You  see  me,  a 
fashionable  girl,  the  scullion,  and  that  fop,  the  man  of  all  work  of 
the  females.  He  was  found  fit  for  nothing  else,  and  though  he 
has  tried  with  all  his  might  to  excel,  yet  it  was  a  long  time  before 
he  could  even  put  a  wooden  pin  on  a  sheet,  which  would  be  sure 
to  hold  it.  And  our  ladies  taxed  him  to  wash  out  all  the  stains 
and  mud  on  their  soiled  clothes,  before  they  could  bring  him  to 
the  degree  of  care  which  was  requisite  for  the  work  he  is  now 
engaged  in.' 

"This  was  certainly  a  strange  exhibition  of  the  transforming 
forms  of  Fourierism.  As  we  repassed  him  on  our  return,  h-? 
again  addressed  us  in  the  gay  and  affected  tone  of  a  dandy  of  the 
first  water. 

"On  reaching  Jane's  chamber,  which  was  divested  of  every 
luxury,  having  a  bedstead,  two  chairs,  and  a  table  covered  with 
books,  we  sat  down  to  a  more  confidential  chat.  She  had  never, 
in  any  manner,  alluded  to  Richard,  so  I  had  to  open  that  topic. 
I  felt  deeply  anxious  for  the  effect  of  my  effort,  and  thought  if 
there  was  a  chord  which  could  be  reached  successfully,  it  would 
be  when  I  recalled  the  recollections  of  her  young  love  for  Richard, 
his  hopes,  and  his  continued  devotedness  to  her.  But  how  to 
begin  was  the  difficulty. 

**  I  remembered  the  gloves,  and  ran  to  my  room  and  brought 
them.  *  Here,'  said  I,  *  is  a  box  of  gloves  which  Richard  has 
brought  from  Paris,  and  begged  me  to  present  to  you.'  She  took 
the  box  with  emotion — looked  at  it.  It  was  very  beautiful, 
and  the  vignette  was  significant  and  graceful.  'I'm  much  obliged 
to  Richard  for  thinking  of  me  ;  but  what  use  have  I  of  gloves 
here?'  I  gave  her  the  key,  and  she  opened  the  box,  taking  out 
the  gloves  pair  by  pair,  and  kissed  them,  and  then  replaced  them. 

"  I  took  her  hand,  and  examined  it ;  it  was  certainly  not  so  fair 
as  it  once  was,  and  I  said,  'I  fear  your  hand  has  grown  too  large 
for  the  gloves  you  once  wore.' 

"She  looked  at  her  hand  earnestly — 'Do  you  think  so?'  and 
instantly  commenced  trying  on  a  pair  of  the  gloves.  I  took  no 
notice  of  the  exertion  she  was  making,  but  talked  on,  and  she 
evidently  was  unconscious  of  all  I  was  saying,  so  absorbed  was 
she  in  the  appalling  fact,  that  her  hand  had  grown  so  large  as  to 
be  rlo  longer  able  to  wear  the  gloves  she  once  had  worn.  She 
examined  the  number;  there  it  was  as  plain  as  the  hot  iron  could 
stamp  it,  and  by  the  same  maker,  for,  as  I  have  already  said,  we 
had  sent  our  gloves  to  a  manufacturer  from  whom  we  were  both 
supplied,  and  these  gloves  then  were  too  small.  Finding  her  so 
absorbed,  I  said,  «  Dear  Jane,  perhaps  they  can  be  better  tried  on 
after  dinner;  suppose  you  leave  it  till  the  evening.' 


JANE'S  "  COUSIN  RICHARD."  297 

"With  a  feeling  of  reluctance  to  relinquish  the  trial,  she  re 
placed  the  gloves,  and  I  recommenced  speaking  of  Richard,  say 
ing,  »  he  had  greatly  improved  in  looks  and  manners.' 

"  'No  doubt,'  she  said,sneeringly,  and  interrupting  me,  'Rich 
ard,  I  suppose,  like  all  our  young  traveled  gentlemen,  has  done 
his  best  to  forget  he  is  an  American  ;  and  to  become  as  like  as 
possible  to  La  Fontaine's  traveled  monkey.  He  wears  a  mous 
tache,  speaks  of  the  divine  Grisi,  of  Rachel,  and  doesn't  forget 
to  give  all  these  fine  personages'  names  their  true  accent.  Now, 
Mrs.  Smith,  you  know  I  despise  all  such  nonsense — I  did  not  ap 
prove  Richard's  tour  of  Europe.  It  is  next  to  impossible  that  he 
should  return  as  true  and  as  good  as  when  he  went  away.  And 
all  his  love  of  country,  all  his  pride  in  our  institutions,  is  doubtless 
sunk  in  his  love  of  the  aristocracy,  the  vices  and  the  sensuous 
pleasures  which  debase,  and  degrade,  and  render  worthless,  all 
our  fine  gentlemen  who  finish  their  education  on  the  Continent. 
Poor  Dick  !  I'm  sorry  for  him.' 

"  I  assured  her  all  her  fears  were  groundless  ;  that  one  '  more 
devoted  to  his  country,  more  proud  of  his  birthright,  did  not  live". 
That  he  had  been  devoted  to  science,  and  had  studied  museums 
rather  than  theatres,  and  had  penetrated  the  mines  of  Europe,  but 
not  its  hells.  That  his  cabinet  of  minerals  was  deemed,  by  the 
best  of  judges,  one  of  the  most  complete  in  the  city,  and  though 
he  had  spent  a  large  sum  of  money,  it  was  for  books  of  the 
highest  value,  and  that  he  had  it  in  contemplation  to  fit  himself 
for  a  chair  of  Natural  History  and  Geology,  and  had  made  all  his 
collections  to  that  end.  And  as  for  his  personal  appearance,  he 
had  grown  into  a  tall  vigorous  man,  who  could  climb  mountains,  or 
descend  to  the  depths  of  mines,  without  the  fear  of  losing  either 
life  or  limb ;  in  short,  he  was  as  unlike  the  fancy  sketch  she  had 
drawn,  as  a  man  could  well  be.' 

"  She  sighed,  and  said,  '  I'm  very  glad,'  and  yet  I  really  felt 
she  would  have  been  relieved  if  it  were  as  she  had  pictured  him. 
Such  a  man  she  could  have  found  no  difficulty  in  relinquishing — 
no  pang  of  regret  would  have  reached  her  heart,  at  hearing  he 
was  married  to  another ;  but  matters  wore  a  different  aspect  when 
she  thought  of  him  as  devoted  to  science,  and  designing  to  occupy 
a  professor's  chair  in  some  college ;  this  fell  in  with  her  views  of 
labor,  which  was  necessary  for  happiness  and  usefulness. 

»*  Having  made  a  commencement,  I  repeated  our  conversations 
respecting  herself,  his  admiration  for  the  sentiment  which  had  in 
duced  her  to  take  the  step  she  had,  and  yet  his  entire  aversion 
for  the  theory  which  she  hoped  to  see  established,  its  practical 
working  in  France,  the  character  of  Fourier, — his  entire  want  of 
the  holy  love  of  man,  which  was  attributed  to  him,  and  his  sad 


298  PETER  SCHLEMIHL. 

end.  I  repeated  to  her  his  views  of  the  condition  of  the  several 
classes  of  Europe,  the  manner  in  which  the  wrongs  of  labor  were 
felt,  and  how  eagerly  the  poor  man  seized  the  remotest  contingen 
cies  of  improvement  of  his  condition — and  the  hopeless  results  of 
all  the  experiments  thus  far  tried;  the  impossibility  of  making 
vicious  men  virtuous  by  mere  association  ;  that  the  system,  as  a 
theory,  was  based  on  self,  and  the  most  unlicensed  gratification 
of  our  sensual  passions,  which,  in  their  very  nature,  were  lawless 
and  corrupt. 

"  «  Oh  yes  !'  she  said,  '  there  comes  his  doctrine  of  depravity. 
No,  my  dear  madam,  that  man  is  depraved,  is  the  necessary  con 
sequence  of  our  present  state  of  society ;  we  must  change  our 
modes,  and  our  characters  change  with  them.  How  can  it  be  the 
hungry  will  not  steal,  and  the  rich  and  over  fed,  become  proud? 
Everything  conspires  to  make  the  poor  man  poorer,  and  the  rich 
man  richer.  And  ought  we  not  to  lend  our  little  aid,  to  change 
the  conditions  of  our  race.  There  must  be  a  commencement,  or 
the  end  can  never  be  attained.  We  must  expect  failures ;  the 
very  training  men  and  women  have  received,  renders  failures  at 
first  all  but  inevitable;  but  some  centuries  hence,  we  shall  see 
Fourierism,  like  Christianity,  pervading  countries,  and  then  the 
dreams  of  poets  and  prophets  will  be  realized.' 

"  I  must  confess,  I  find  in  my  heart  a  chord  of  sympathy  vi 
brating  whenever  I  hear  one  speak  with  enthusiasm  and  hope 
for  a  higher  and  happier  condition  of  mankind  ;  and  I  had  little 
to  say  in  reply  to  all  this,  though  I  strove  to  recover  what  I  had 
heard  Richard  say,  and  which,  at  the  time,  seemed  to  me  very 
convincing.  One  thing  I  remarked  in  Jane  with  satisfaction.  It 
was,  that  Richard  had  made  this  subject  a  matter  of  inquiry,  and 
that  he  had  a  feeling  of  respect  for  the  sentiment  which  had  sus 
tained  her  in  making  so  many  sacrifices;  and  she  said — 'I  would 
dearly  like  to  talk  with  Richard  on  this  subject,  if  I  thought  I 
could  do  so  without  the  petulance  and  passion  I  once  exhibited. 
He  is  a  man  now,  and  I  would  be  a  woman — though  I  fear  while 
he  has  been  growing,  I  have  been  at  a  stand-still.'  I  encouraged 
this  desire  as  best  I  could ,  and  did  not  forget  to  say  how  much  Rich 
ard  was  admired  by  the  Worths  and  the  Schuylers,  by  Mr.  De 
Lisle  and  others,  for  whom  I  knew  Jane  felt  the  highest  respect. 

"While  we  were  thus  talking,  the  dinner-bell  rang,  and  I  went 
down  to  dinner.  The  dining-room  was  a  long,  low  apartment, 
with  beams  projecting  from  the  ceiling,  furnished  with  two  tables, 
which  run  the  whole  length  of  the  room.  The  cloth  was  coarse 
but  white,  and  the  knives  and  forks  were  bright,  as  I  had  reason 
to  know,  seeing  them,  one  by  one,  polished  by  my  dear  Jane. 


DINNER  AT  ROCK  CREEK  FARM.  299 

The  meats  were  well  cooked,  but  the  abundance  of  turnips,  cab 
bage,  and  boiled  dishes,  were,  to  me,  excessively  nauseous. 

"Our  second  course  consisted  of  Indian  puddings,  eaten  with 
molasses.  The  lumps  of  suet  would  have  tasked  the  stomach  of 
an  ostrich.  The  table  was  waited  on  by  about  one-third  of  the 
members  of  the  Community,  and  so  soon  as  one  was  done,  the 
place  vacated  was  taken  by  the  attendant,  who  was  waited  on  by 
ihose  who  rose.  There  was  a  good  deal  of  loud  talking  and 
laughing,  and  the  subject  of  their  mirth  arose  from  incidents  aris 
ing  among  themselves,  of  which  I  had  no  knowledge,  and  I  doubt 
if  they  would  have  been  as  mirthful  to  me  as  to  themselves,  had 
I  been  better  advised.  At  dinner,  it  was  announced,  that,  in  honor 
of  my  visit,  a  ball  would  be  given  in  the  hull,  in  the  evening — a 
compliment  I  acknowledged  by  bowing  very  politely  to  the  pre 
siding  gentleman,  who  had  once  been  a  Liberal  Divine,  and  who 
had  sunk  the  last  vestige  of  the  minister  in  the  Fourierist. 

"  After  dinner,  Jane  put  on  her  apron,  and  re-polished  her  knives 
and  forks,  which  occupied  her  two  hours.  We  then  went  into 
the  parlor,  where  she  showed  me  she  had  lost  none  of  her  facility 
and  brilliancy  of  execution  on  the  piano,  which  I  was  delighted 
to  witness. 

"  We  went  back  to  her  chamber,  and  she  at  once  addressed  her 
self  to  the  hopeless  task  of  putting  on  a  pair  of  gloves.  They 
could,  by  no  amount  of  stretching,  be  made  to  fit,  and  she  threw 
the  gloves  on  the  bed,  and  burst  into  tears.  I  let  her  tears  have 
their  course,  and  made  no  remark  about  the  increased  size  of  her 
hands ;  but  again  spoke  of  her  home,  the  pleasure  her  father  and 
mother  would  take  in  a  visit  from  her,  the  opportunity  it  would 
give  her  of  seeing  her  circle  of  friends  ;  the  operas  to  be  brought 
out — and,  lastly,  that  she  must  come  on,  to  be  at  my  first  party. 

"  She  listened  with  a  melancholy  smile,  and  when  I  spoke  of 
my  first  party,  she  put  her  arms  around  me,  and  said,  l  Dear  Mrs. 
Smith,  do  you  want  to  make  a  show  of  me,  to  add  to  the  novelties 
of  your  party?  How  odd  it  would  be!  and  how  many  jeers  I 
should  have  to  meet !  but,'  she  said,  looking  proudly, '  I  should  care 
very  little  for  all  such  people ;  but  if  I  should  go,  I  must  lose  my 
place  here,  and  then  what  would  become  of  me?' 

"  *  My  dear  Jane,  if  there  be  no  other  home  for  you  in  the  world, 
you  shall  come  and  be  my  dear  sister — I  am  in  want  of  one,  and 
where  could  I  find  such  another  as  you  ?' 

"  This  again  drew  the  tears  to  her  eyes,  and  she  laid  her  head 
on  my  shoulder,  and  sat  in  silence  for  a  while,  and  was  about  to 
speak,  when  the  supper  bell  rang.  I  would  gladly  have  excused 
myself;  but  she  insisted  1  had  eaten  nothing  at  dinner  ;  I  must  take 
a  cup  of  tea ;  '  that?  she  said  with  emphasis,  '  is  drinkable  even 


300  PETER  SCHLEMIHL. 

here.'  I  found  myself  seated  at  the  same  table,  and  our  supper 
consisted  of  several  varieties  of  coarse  bread,  eaten  with  butter  or 
molasses,  as  might  be  preferred.  The  same  order  of  attendants 
was  observed.  There  was  no  lack  of  hospitality,  good  nature  and 
conversation.  The  gentleman  who  had  been  so  usefully  employ 
ed  in  the  morning,  with  his  short  jacket,  waited  upon  me  with  the 
greatest  assiduity,  talking  of  all  imaginable  things  connected  with 
Babylon,  with  such  a  fluency  and  intimate  knowledge  of  what  was 
going  on,  that  I  was  assured  he  had  many  secret  longings  to  get 
back  to  his  old  haunts  and  its  pleasures.  So  soon  as  we  rose  from 
supper,  all  commenced  clearing  away  tables,  to  get  ready  for  the 
dance. 

"  I  had  the  pleasure  of  dancing  with  the  Babylonian  in  boots 
and  short  jacket — then  with  a  man  in  shoes  an  inch  thick,  not  the 
cleanest  in  the  world,  as  he  had  just  come  out  of  the  field,  where 
he  told  me  he  had  been  all  day  ploughing;  and  so  the  evening 
passed  away,  and  I  was  well  wearied  with  all  I  had  seen  and 
done,  when  I  laid  down  to  sleep  on  my  corn-shuck  mattress. 

"  The  next  day  I  invited  Jane  to  spend  the  day  with  me  at  my 
Hotel,  and  she  consented.  She  feared  her  dresses  were  not  per 
fectly  what  would  be  agreeable  to  me,  and  I  met  this  by  insisting 
on  her  wearing  one  of  mine.  Our  figures  are  so  near  alike  that 
my  dresses  fitted  her  admirably.  I  took  care  to  select  the  prettiest, 
and  of  a  new  style,  which  I  had  just  received  from  my  milliner 
in  Paris.  She  was  herself  pleased  with  the  beautiful  effect  of 
her  costume;  it  was  finished  and  perfect,  all  to  the  gloves.  I  told 
her  she  could  wear,  perhaps,  those  I  had  worn,  and  she  tried 
them  on  and  found  them  to  fit,  and  so  putting  on  the  bonnet 
she  had  worn  to  the  farm  a  year  before,  (but  as  it  was  only  to 
ride  in,  it  was  all  very  well,)  we  sat  out  for  the  city. 

"  My  husband  was  delighted  to  see  her,  and  brought  in  two  of 
our  mutual  friends,  who  happened  to  be  in  town;  we  spent  the 
morning  with  them,  and  at  four,  dined  together  in  my  parlor.  It 
was  a  charming  day,  and  at  seven,  I  took  my  seat  beside  her  to  re 
turn  with  her  to  the  Community,  accompanied  by  my  husband. 

"  This  was  the  moment  I  deemed  best  to  make  my  appeal. 
I  depicted  the  joy  of  her  parents  at  her  return,  the  desolation  of 
their  home,  their  readiness  to  respect  her  opinions;  the  love  and 
longing  of  Richard,  and  the  pleasure  with  which  all  whom  she 
loved  would  welcome  her.  My  dear  husband  was  not  wanting  in 
tact  or  sympathy.  His  heart  was  touched,  and  he  became  deeply 
enlisted  in  my  success.  Jane  wept  with  excess  of  agony  of 
feeling ;  but  love  got  the  better  of  pride  and  theory,  and  she  pro 
mised  to  return  with  me.  At  this  moment  rny  husband  ordered 
the  driver  to  turn  and  carry  us  back  to  the  hotel. 


301 

"We  had  gone  more  than  half  the  distance.  Jane  remon 
strated  ;  but  my  husband  said  very  quietly  and  firmly,  '  My  dear 
Jane,  a  letter  will  do  better  than  your  presence.  It  will  cost  you 
less,  and  will  accomplish  all  you  desire.  In  this,  my  dear  young 
friend,  let  me  advise  and  act  for  you.' 

"  Jane  sat  quiet  and  absorbed  in  thought,  and  so  soon  as  we 
had  reached  the  hotel,  returned  to  the  chamber  next  my  own,  and 
asked  for  writing  paper  and  pens,  which  I  gave  her,  and  kissing 
her,  I  bade  her  *  good  night.' 

"  At  six,  the  letter  was  sent,  her  trunk  arrived  at  eight,  while  we 
were  at  breakfast,  and  at  nine  we  were  on  our  way  to  Babylon.  The 
returning  prodigal  never  was  more  fondly  welcomed.  Not  the 
slightest  allusion  escaped  the  father  and  mother  as  to  her  long 
absence  and  estrangement  of  feeling,  and  Richard  came  with  the 
earnestness  of  one  just  returned  from  a  tour,  so  that  every  possi 
ble  degree  of  kindness  and  refinement  of  delicacy  was  exhibited, 
to  save  her  the  feeling  that  she  was  an  absentee  from  the  home 
circle.  Her  room  was  in  the  precise  state  in  which  she  had  left 
it.  Not  a  book  was  changed ;  the  embroidery  frame  and  its 
worsteds  were  in  the  very  box  in  which  she  had  left  them  on  the 
morning  of  her  departure. 

"All  this  kindness  was  appreciated,  and  acknowledged  by 
Jane,  in  a  way  worthy  of  herself.  She  avoided  all  discussions  of 
topics  which  must  be  painful  to  her  mother;  she  took  her  accus 
tomed  seat  at  church,  and  gave  a  degree  of  attention  to  the  ritual, 
which  was  unusual  to  her.  With  no  one  did  she  speak  of  her 
pursuits  ;  she  treated  her  absence  as  one  of  pleasure,  and  the  few 
triflers  who  dared  to  jeer,  were  made  to  feel  the  intense  powers 
of  her  wit  with  a  severity  which  awed  them  to  silence.  To 
Richard  alone  she  spoke  of  her  theory  of  society,  her  hopes  for 
the  world's  recovery  and  redemption.  He  listened  with  the  air 
of  one  deeply  interested,  and  as  wishing,  if  possible,  to  find  out 
the  bright  points  of  this  system.  They  frequently  came  to  see  me, 
and  Richard  deemed  it,  as  he  told  me,  safest  for  Jane  and  himself, 
to  speak  on  this  subject  only  when  in  my  presence.  She  was  apt 
to  become  excited,  and  when  argument  failed,  to  try  her  skill  at 
sophisms,  which  led  to  raillery  and  wit,  and  then  satire  came  to 
close  up  the  scene,  leaving  much  on  his  mind  to  deplore,  and 
much  in  her  heart  to  sorrow  over. 

"  I  have  admired  his  admirable  tact  and  self-control.  He  has 
never  seemed  desirous  of  pursuing  his  argument  toils  obvious  re 
sults,  but  has  left  it  for  Jane  to  do  so.  All  her  charges  on  the  crimes 
of  society  he  has  admitted,  but  sought  to  show  her  the  hopeless 
ness  that  a  mere  change  of  organization  can  work  the  changes 
on  moral  beings,  as  if  they  were  so  many  automata;  but  though  I 


302  PETER  SCHLEMIHL. 

have  heard  much  about  this  subject,  to  show  you  how  great  has 
been  his  forbearance,  I  never  heard  before,  that  the  children 
were  the  destined  scavengers  of  a  phalanx.  What  could  Jane 
have  answered  ?" 

"  Indeed,"  replied  the  Gentleman  in  Black,  "  it  is  hard  to  say. 
Certainly  nothing  can  be  more  revolting ;  nor  can  any  woman, 
worthy  of  the  name  of  mother,  conceive  of  giving  up  her  infants 
to  the  care  of  the  nurses  of  the  Phalanx.  Women  may  become 
monsters — infanticide  is  no  new  crime  to  the  world,  and  is  ex 
tensively  practiced,  as  we  know,  in  China  and  elsewhere.  But 
Fouriensm  is  essentially  sensual,  and  the  vanity  of  women  is 
addressed,  by  telling  her  *  she  is  to  be  no  longer  dependent  on 
man  ;'  and  too,  that  '  the  dependency  of  woman  is  unfavorable  to 
the  full  development  of  love — that  this  beautiful  passion  can 
only  exist  where  there  is  liberty^;  liberty  of  the  soul  and  the  body.' 
Now  there  are  women,  to  whom  this  is  a  sweet  poison  ;  such 
have  little  maternal  tenderness;  they  would  gladly  give  up  their 
children  to  crocodiles,  and  as  far  as  they  dare,  they  do  give  them 
up  to  hired  nurses.  Such  women  can  well  receive  the  teachings 
of  Mr.  Brisbane,  that, 4  in  spite  of  all  that  is  preached  of  the  sacred 
duties  of  nature,  there  is  not  a  married  couple,  who  are  not,  more 
or  less,  tired  of  the  cares  which  infants  require;  of  the  services 
which  their  weakness  demands.'*  To  such  women,  children  are 
but  as  pigs,  who  may  wallow  in  the  dirt,  if  they  please,  so  they 
interfere  not  with  their  pleasures  and  pursuits.  And  a  system 
like  that  of  Fourierism  or  Swedenborgianism,  which  gives  the 
sanction  of  science,  or  revelation,  falsely  so  called,  to  an  unbridled 
licentiousness,  has  powerful  attractions  for  such  women,  as  well 
as  men ;  but  it  is  an  attraction  they  do  not  so  readily  avow,  and  it 
is  to  be  hoped,  in  most  cases,  women  full  of  generous  enthusiasm, 
as  in  the  case  of  your  young  friend,  are  all  unconscious  of  the 
last  tendencies  of  the  system  they  advocate.  It  is  to  be  hoped  so, 
and,  indeed,  it  is  every  way  probable  it  is  .so  ;  but  where  you  find 
a  woman  adopting,  with  a  full  consciousness,  all  the  doctrines  of 
Fourierism,  you  find  one  restless  of  the  restraints  of  religion,  as 
well  as  of  society,!  whose  virtues,  if  she  has  any,  are  the  result 

*  Brisbane  says,  "Association  will  employ  the  passions  as  God  created 
them,  without  changing  their  nature — the  taste  for  dirt  is  a  necessary  im 
pulse  to  enlist  children  in  the  corporation  of  little  hordes  to  induce  them  to  un 
dergo  the  daily  disgust  connected  with  dirty  work,"  &c. 

"  The  inclination  for  dirt  which  we  find  predominant  in  children,  is  but  a 
rude  germ,"  &c. 

f  Fourier  says,  "Our  ideas  of  the  honor  or  virtue  of  women,  are  but  preju 
dices,  which  vary  with  our  legislation." 


THE  GENTLEMAN'S  OPINION  OF  FOURIERISM.  303 

of  accident  rather  than  of  principle.*  I  pray  you  pardon  me  for 
interrupting  you.  How  stand  matters  between  these  lovers?" 

"I'm  sure  I  have  rather  to  thank  you  for  your  interruption. 
Your  views  agree  entirely  with  those  I  have  myself  entertained. 

"To  finish  my  story,"  continued  Mrs.  Smith,  "my  young 
friends  love  each  other  devotedly;  but  both  have  the  same  idea  of 
the  necessity  of  similarity  of  tastes  and  opinions  as  necessary  to 
happiness  in  married  life,  and  are  both  miserable  in  consequence 
of  these  differences  of  opinion.  Richard  is  orthodox,  and  of  a 
religious  temperament,  and  Jane  has,  I  think,  the  same  tendencies 
toward  piety,  but  her  present  latitudinarianism  is  a  great  gulf 
which  keeps  them  apart.  They  will  marry  one  of  these  days,  and 
be  very  happy,  because  they  mutually  respect  as  well  as  love 
each  other. 

"  I  tell  them  they  might  as  well  be  miserable,  because  their 
pulses  do  not  beat  alike — that  unisons  do  not  make  such  sweet 
music  as  chords,  and  that  it  is  the  sharps  and  flats  in  matrimony, 
as  well  as  in  music,  which  produce  the  most  beautiful  contrasts, 
and  resolve  themselves  into  the  sweetest  harmonies." 

"Indeed,  madam,"  said  the  Gentleman  in  Black,  with  a  graceful 
bow,  and  an  amused  smile,  "you  are  very  ingenious,  and  I  am 
happy  to  say,  the  figure  is  not  only  felicitous,  but  what  is  better, 
is  true  in  fact." 

*  See  Appendix  G.  for  articles  on  Fourierism. 


304  PETER  SCHLEMIHL. 


CHAPTER  XIII. 

Mrs.  Smith's  swoon  and  illness — The  Gentleman  in  Black,  having  shown  Mrs. 
Smith  in  the  mirror  a  scene  of  a  party,  illuminated  by  undying  lamps, 
offers  to  supply  her — Mrs.  Smith  thinks  to  over-reach  the  Gentleman  in 
Black — Alarmed  by  seeing  the  shadow  of  Peter  shaking  his  fist  at  the  Gen 
tleman  in  Black — Pursuit  of  Peter,  who  speaks  to  Mrs.  Smith-— Steals  the 
spectacles  of  the  Gentleman  in  Black — The  Gentleman  in  Black  returns, 
and  Peter  escapes — Mrs.  Smith  consents  to  sign  the  bond  of  the  Gentleman 
in  Black,  who  wishes  a  drop  of  her  blood  to  seal  the  bond — Mrs.  Smith 
swoons — Is  found  in  convulsions — Doctors  sent  for — A  HCOKEOPATHIST  ar 
rives;  his  treatment — Surprise  of  Mr.  Smith — ALLOPATHISTS  arrive — Their 
consultation — Grief  of  Mr.  Smith — Doctor  "A  No.  1's"  colloquy  with  Mr. 
Smith  on  the  diagnosis  of  the  disease — Mrs.  Tripp's  visit  to  Mrs.  Van  Dam 
— Scene  there — Treatment  of  Doctor  Herpin — Scene  between  Mr.  and  Mrs. 
Smith  on  the  restoration  of  her  reason — German  customs  introduced  into  her 
sick  chamber ;  their  influence — Of  Grace  Worth  and  Mr.  De  Lisle — Mrs. 
Smith  and  Doctor  Herpin  discourse  on  dreams — Psychology  of  dreaming — 
Mrs.  Smith's  first  visit  to  her  saloon — Of  pictures — Influence  of  Romanism 
on  the  Fine  Arts. 


In  the  plan  of  this  work,  as  designed  by  Peter  Schlemihl,  there  comes  be 
fore  this  chapter  several  scenes  in  the  Mirror  which  have  never  been  com 
pleted.  To  have  done  so,  would,  it  was  thought,  make  the  work  too  episodical, 
and  so  they  have  been  left  in  outline.  It  is  not  necessary  to  state  what  these 
were  to  the  completion  of  the  story,  of  which  they  are  indeed  entirely  sepa 
rate. 

THE  Gentleman  in  Black,  now  addressing  Mrs.  Smith,  with  a 
smile  said — "  I  will  show  you  one  more  scene  which  I  am  sure 
will  prove  as  attractive  to  you  as  any  one  I  have  had  the  pleasure 
to  present  to  you  this  evening." 

"Ah!  that  will  be  a  hard  task,"  said  Mrs.  Smith,  "after  all  I 
have  seen." 

"  The  Gentleman  in  Black  again  breathed  on  the  Mirror,  and 
a  scene  was  presented,  showing  a  suite  of  rooms  in  all  respects 
furnished  like  her  own.  but  lighted  from  lamps  with  the  utmost 
splendor.  There  were  no  shadows  to  be  seen — the  rooms  were 
bathed  in  light,  and  the  guests,  who  were  numerous,  seemed  in 
the  midst  of  the  festivities  of  an  evening  party.  The  dresses  of 


305 

the  ladies  were  of  dazzling  richness  and  beauty — the  furniture, 
drapery  and  mirrors  were  shining  with  resplendent  lustre  ;  and  it 
seemed  as  if  the  party,  so  bright  and  joyous,  had  all  disposed  of 
their  shadows  to  this  amiable  and  excellent  gentleman,  and,  un 
like  the  unhappy  Schlemihl,  were  weJl  pleased  to  be  rid  of  such 
undesirable  and  unnecessary  appendages. 

"Oh!"  cried  Mrs.  Smith,  clapping  her  hands,  "these  are  the 
lamps;  but  do  they  never  burn  dim?" 

"Never  !  madam,  but  rather  with  increasing  intensity." 

"My  dear  sir, and  what  shall  I  give  you  for  as  many  as  I  need  ? 
I  do  not  stipulate  as  to  price — name  it,  and  it  is  yours." 

The  Gentleman  in  Black  looked  as  if  in  some  dubiety,  and 
then  drawing  from  his  pocket  a  paper  of  some  sort,  said  he  would 
do  so,  if  she  would  make  a  cross  at  the  bottom  of  it. 

Mrs.  Smith  examined  the  paper;  it  was  covered  with  characters ; 
but  whether  they  read  from  left  to  right,  or  right  to  left,  or  up  and 
down,  she  could  not  divine.  She  then  examined  the  material  on 
which  these  characters  were  drawn,  but  it  was  neither  parchment 
nor  paper;  she  looked  up,  and  saw  the  Gentleman  in  Black  in 
tently  gazing  upon  her,  and  handed  it  to  him. 

"  This  is  altogether  incomprehensible  to  me,"  said  Mrs.  Smith  ; 
"  what  does  it  stipulate  for  ?  Ah !  you  want  me  to  part  with  my 
shadow  ?" 

"Dear  Mrs.  Smith,"  replied  the  Gentleman  in  Black,  "  how 
can  you  think  so  ?  The  paper  stipulates  for  what  is  of  the  least 
importance  to  you,  and  that  concerning  which  most  of  the  ladies 
in  Babylon,  at  least,  never  deem  worth  a  moment's  reflection. 
They  part  with  it  for  what  is  far  less  valuable  to  them  than  these 
lamps  are  to  you." 

The  Gentleman  in  Black  again  presented  the  paper  to  Mrs. 
Smith.  She  felt  the  paper,  and  asked,  "  Of  what  is  it  composed  ?" 

"  It  is  made  of  asbestos  which  I  am  in  the  habit  of  using," 
replied  the  Gentleman  in  Black.  "  I  find  it  suits  my  purposes 
better  than  any  other  material.  Permit  me  to  show  you  these 
characters  in  a  work  recently  published  in  Germany,  by  a  very 
pious  physician."  So  saying,  the  Gentleman  in  Black  took  from 
his  pocket  a  copy  of  the  "  Seeress  of  Prevorst,"*  and  opening  to 
the  plate,  Mrs.  Smith  discovered  that  there  was,  to  be  sure,  a 
strict  resemblance  between  the  two.  Mrs.  Smith  paused.  It  was 
but  to  look  into  the  mirror  and  fill  her  eyes  to  satiety  with  the 
light  of  those  beautiful  lamps,  and  to  form  plans  for  the  surprise 
of  her  husband  and  the  delight  of  her  friends. 

"  What  can  he  want  in  exchange  ?"  thought  Mrs.  Smith.    She 

*  Sweclenborg  gives  the  precise  description  of  these  mystic  characters,  as 
being  those  used  in  writing  in  the  spirit  world. 

20 


806  PETER  SCHLEMIHL. 

looked  up,  and  the  Gentleman  in  Black  was  looking  at  the  beauti 
ful  cluster  of  curls  which  hung  down  her  neck.  Her  hair  had 
been  dressed  a  la  Grecque,  and  this  cluster  of  curls  was  false,  but 
exactly  suited  the  shade  of  her  hair.  "  He  wants  a  lock  of  my 
hair,  and  I  will  cut  one  of  these  curls;  it  will  be  just  as  much 
mine  to  him  as  if  I  took  it  from  my  own  temples." 

Mrs.  Smith  now  expressed  her  readiness  to  sign,  and  asked 
him  "If  he  had  a  pen  about  him  ?" 

The  Gentleman  in  Black  was  evidently  perplexed,  for,  though 
his  pocket  seemed  so  wonderfully  capacious,  it  contained  no 
such  articles  as  quills.  While  the  Gentleman  in  Black  was  mus 
ing,  Mrs.  Smith  happening  to  look  round,  saw,  to  her  amazement, 
the  shadow  of  Peter,  which  had  been  pinned  to  the  drapery  of 
the  window,  shaking  his  fist  at  the  Gentleman  in  Black.  Her 
exclamation  aroused  the  attention  of  the  Gentleman  in  Black,  who 
saw  the  arm  as  it  was  falling  to  the  side  of  the  shadow.  In  an 
instant  he  sprang  to  the  curtain,  and  ran  with  the  agility  of  a 
tiger,  and  with  eyes  of  equal  fierceness,  around  the  room,  with  his 
hands  wide  spread,  as  though  playing  at  blind-man's-buff  with 
his  eyes  open.  After  chasing  round  the  room  he  darted  into  the 
saloon,  then  into  the  library  and  out  again,  and  then  ran  down 
the  stairs.  Mrs.  Smith  stood  riveted  to  the  spot  in  speechless 
astonishment,  when  she  felt  the  arm  of  some  one  encircling  her 
waist;  before  she  could  speak,  she  heard  a  voice  close  to  her  ear, 
saying,  "  Dear  Mrs.  Smith,  I  am  poor  Peter  Schlemihl — for  God's 
sake,  don't  sell  your  shadow." 

"  I  will  not,  Peter,  I  will  not  !" 

"  The  Gentleman  in  Black,"  continued  the  voice,  "  mesmerised 
your  wine,  madam,  and  'twas  I  upset  the  glass.  It  was  my  only 
hope  of  saving  you.  Ah!  there  are  his  spectacles  ;  those  I  need, 
and  those  I  will  have,"  seizing  them  as  they  lay  on  the  sofa.  "  Now, 
pray  go  with  me  to  the  door  of  the  saloon ;  I  will  stand  behind 
you,  and  as  the  Gentleman  in  Black  enters,  I  will  slip  out."  So 
saying,  the  invisible  Peter  drew  her  to  the  door.  Mrs.  Smith  heard 
the  Gentleman  in  Black  racing  about  the  entry,  and  Peter,  strange 
to  say  it,  (pursued  as  he  was  by  the  Gentleman  in  Black,)  kissed 
her  cheek.  She  was  about  to  reprove  him,  when  the  Gentleman 
in  Black  came  leaping  up  the  stairs,  and  entered  the  room.  The 
moment  he  did  so,  Peter  pressed  Mrs.  Smith's  hand,  and  let  it  go. 

The  Gentleman  in  Black,  to  the  surprise  of  Mrs.  Smith,  seemed 
no  way  out  of  breath  by  his  violent  exercise,  but  his  rage  was  un 
abated.  Going  up  to  the  shadow  of  Peter,  he  tore  it  down,  and 
shaking  it  as  if  it  had  been  a  silk  apron,  he  glared  round  the 
room,  and  shook  his  fist  at  the  invisible  Peter.  "  You  villain!  re 
member,  you  are  not  yet  out  of  the  Wood."  So  saying,  he  rolled 
up  the  shadow,  and  thrust  it  into  his  pocket. 


MRS.  SMITH  SWOONS.  807 

Seating  himself  on  the  sofa,  he  apologized  to  Mrs.  Smith  for 
the  abruptness  of  his  manners.  He  said,  "After  all  he  had  suf 
fered  from  the  miserable  scoundrel  who  had  just  escaped  him,  he 
hoped  she  would  pardon  him  for  any  want  of  courtesy." 

"  You  want  these  lamps,"  continued  the  Gentleman  in  Black, 
pointing  to  them  in  the  mirror,  "  and  I  want  the  pledge  of  your 
kind  remembrance  of  this  interview.  You  asked  me,  at  the  in 
stant  of  our  being  interrupted  by  this  fellow,  for  a  pen.  I  regret 
to  say,  that  I  find  it  impossible  to  carry  one  in  my  pocket,  which 
is  fit  for  use;  they  are  so  apt  to  split  at  the  point !  Perhaps  you 
may  have  one  in  the  library,  and  will  be  pleased  to  bring  it?" 

"  Certainly,"  said  Mrs.  Smith. 

Now,  as  Mrs.  Smith  went  for  the  pen,  she  endeavored,  from  all 
she  had  seen,  to  form  some  idea  who  this  Gentleman  in  Black 
could  be.  He  certainly  seemed  a  very  good  man,  though  he  hated 
poor  Peter,  and  then  all  his  conversations  wore  a  very  religious 
aspect,  and  would  it  be  safe  to  sign  the  paper  ?  She  found  herself 
in  a  most  strange  and  perplexed  condition  of  mind.  She  was  ut 
terly  unable  to  decide  what  she  ought  to  do,  or  would  do. 

In  this  state  of  mind,  she  brought  the  pen,  and  as  she  presented 
it  to  the  Gentleman  in  Black,  for  his  inspection,  recollecting  her 
self,  she  cried — "  Oh!  I  have  forgot  the  inkstand,"  and  turned  to 
go  for  it. 

"No  matter,  dear  Mrs.  Smith,"  said  the  Gentleman  in  Black, 
"  for  the  inkstand.  It  is  usual  to  sign  these  papers  in  red  ink. 
Now,  then,  permit  me  to  draw  but  one  drop  of  the  rich  blood 
which  gives  so  beautiful  a  color  to  your  skin." 

Mrs.  Smith  was  about  to  express  her  dissent  to  so  strange  a  pro 
posal,  when  the  Gentleman  in  Black  produced  a  lancet,  and  with 
an  air  so  purely  professional,  that  Mrs.  Smith  knew  not  what  to 
do  or  to  say,  and  holding  her  breath  with  surprise,  the  Gentleman 
in  Black  compressed  her  arm  by  his  left  hand,  and  was  in  the  act 
of  plunging  the  lancet  into  her  arm,  when  she  shrieked,  and 
swooned,  and  fell  upon  the  floor. 

The  scream  was  heard  by  Maria,  Mrs.  Smith's  dressing-maid, 
and  she  ran  in,  and  seeing  her  mistress  on  the  floor,  uttered  cries 
so  loud,  that  it  aroused  Mr.  Smith  from  his  sound  sleep,  and  brought 
the  whole  retinue  of  servants  into  the  saloon.  When  Mr.  Smith 
entered,  in  his  dressing-gown,  he  was  frightened  at  seeing  his 
wife  lying  on  a  sofa,  her  eyes  protruding  and  wild,  her  face  flush 
ed,  and  in  the  paroxysms  of  a  general  convulsion;  the  muscles 
of  her  face  twitching,  her  breathing  quick  and  irregular,  and  her 
tongue  in  violent  motion,  pushing  out  her  cheek.  Alarmed,  he 
ordered  a  dozen  servants  to  go  for  doctors,  anybody  and  anywhere, 
and  off  they  ran  in  various  directions. 


308  PETER  SCHLEMIHL. 

At  his  wit's  end,  Mr.  Smith  ordered  the  servants  to  carry  Mrs. 
Smith  to  her  chamber,  where  she  was  undressed  by  the  women, 
while  he  flew  about,  frantic  for  the  arrival  of  the  physicians. 

The  first  who  reached  the  house,  was  a  distinguished  disciple 
of  Hahnemann,  who,  when  he  saw  the  patient,  frankly  stated  to 
Mr.  Smith,  that  the  case  was  one  of  extreme  danger,  and  needed 
the  most  powerful  and  prompt  remedies. 

Mr.  Smith  begged  him  to  do  something — anything,  and  at  once, 
without  waiting  for  the  arrival  of  any  other  doctor. 

He  expected  to  see  the  physician  mix  up  a  dose  of  calomel 
and  jalap,  or  to  write  a  prescription  combining  a  dozen  medicines 
at  least ;  but  what  was  his  astonishment  to  see  him  take  from  his 
pocket,  a  little  case,  about  the  size  of  a  small,  thin  volume,  out  of 
which  he  took  a  vial  no  longer  than  a  pin,  and  calling  for  a  glass 
of  water,  poured  into  it  a  drop  from  the  diminutive  bottle,  of  which 
mixture  he  gave  a  dessert-spoonful  to  poor  Mrs.  Smith  ! 

"And  is  that  all?"  exclaimed  Mr.  Smith. 

"  That,  my  dear  friend,"  said  the  Homoeopathist,  "  is  the  most 
potent  and  efficient  of  all  our  pharmacopoeia." 

"Is  it  possible!  and  pray  what  is  it?" 

"It  is  one  drop  of  aconite  of  the  third  potency.  I  shall  give 
her  a  second  spoonful  in  four  hours  hence." 

"Great  God!"  exclaimed  the  distracted  husband,  "this  can 
never  help  my  wife  in  such  horrible  convulsions." 

The  physician  assured  him,  "  if  medicine  could  save  Mrs. 
Smith,  his  theory  and  practice  would  do  it."  But  poor  Mr. 
Smith  wanted  something  to  be  done.  He  was  for  action,  action, 
action — to  him  this  seemed  just  nothing  at  all.  And  there  his 
dear  wife  lay  in  agonies  before  him.  He  was  full  of  unspeakable 
terror  at  the  idea  of  losing  her. 

"  What  has  caused  this  dreadful  attack?"  asked  Mr.  Smith. 

The  Homoeopathist  said,  "it  was  doubtless  the  result  of  intense 
anxiety  and  violent  emotions,  consequent  on  the  efforts  she  had 
made  during  the  party  she  had  given." 

Poor  Mr.  Smith  was  wretched,  indeed,  as  he  heard  this.  "  I 
have  myself  killed  her  by  my  unkindness,"  he  cried. 

The  Homoeopathist  stared  at  Mr.  Smith,  who  was  all  uncon 
scious  of  what  he  had  said. 

A  physician  of  the  regular  Allopathic  school  now  reached  the 
house,  and  he  was  followed  by  others  almost  at  the  same  time; 
so  plenty  is  professional  aid  in  Babylon  the  Less,  when  the  sum 
mons  cornes  from  the  palaces  of  the  wealthy. 

The  Allopathist,  as  he  entered  the  room,  looked  with  an  air 
of  surprise  at  the  disciple  of  Hahnemann,  and  then  at  Mr.  Smith, 
and  asked  Mr.  Smith  "  if  he  wished  him  to  take  charge  of  the 


CONSULTATION  OF  DOCTORS.  309 

case."  Mr.  Smith  was  bewildered,  but  thinking  that  there  was 
safety  in  a  multitude  of  counsellors,  said  "he  did,"  whereupon  the 
Homoeopathist  bowed,  and  took  his  leave. 

There  was  quite  a  diversity  of  opinions  at  the  bed-side  of  Mrs. 
Smith  as  to  the  course  of  treatment,  and  the  exact  phase  of  the 
attack.  The  doctor  who  assumed  to  be  "A  No.  1,"  expressed  his 
belief  it  was  a  case  of  cerebritis.  Dr.  Herpin  said  it  seemed  to 
him  to  be  rather  meningitis  ;  Dr.  Frank  called  it  encephalitis;  Dr. 
Vogel,  phrenitis;  Dr.  Linneas,  cephalitis,  and  Dr.  Martinet  said 
he  deemed  it  arachnitis,  or  more  properly  arachnoiditis. 

"  What  do  they  say  is  the  matter  with  my  mistress  ?"  whis 
pered  Maria  to  Mr.  Smith. 

"God  knows,  Maria !"  Mr.  Smith  replied,  "  for  I  don't  under 
stand  a  word  they  say." 

Doctor  "A  No.  1"  proposed  opening  a  large  orifice,  and  bleeding 
Mrs.  Smith  forty  ounces  of  blood.  Dr.  Frank  proposed  placing 
pounded  ice  on  the  head.  Dr.  Vogel  said  it  would  be  absolutely 
necessary  to  shave  her  head,  before  applying  the  ice.  Dr.  Her 
pin  said  he  had  seen  the  happiest  results  from  topical  bleeding, 
and  proposed  cups  and  leeches.  Dr.  Vogel  also  advised  blisters 
to  be  applied  to  the  back  and  shoulders ;  and  a  drop  of  Croton 
oil  to  be  at  once  administered. 

Mr.  Smith  listened  to  all  these  discussions  in  a  tremor  of  anx 
iety.  He  could  not  conceive  how  it  could  be,  that  his  wife  could 
be  saved  by  being  bled  to  death  ;  and  as  to  having  her  beautiful 
hair  cut  off,  he  was  dismayed  at  the  thought,  and  Maria  whispered 
to  him,  with  the  utmost  earnestness,  "to  cut  off  her  hair  would 
kill  her  mistress  outright  so  soon  as  she  came  to  her  senses." 

Mr.  Smith  asked,  "if  his  wishes  could  be  consulted  in  this 
matter  ?" 

The  doctors  looked  a  little  puzzled, but  Dr.  "A  No.  1"  said,  in 
reply,  "  Certainly,  Mr.  Smith,  if  your  wishes  accord  with  our 
rules  of  practice." 

"  Then,"  said  Mr.  Smith,  "I  beg  the  suggestions  of  Dr.  Herpin 
may  be  adopted,  and  pray  you  to  save  my  wife's  hair  if  it  be  pos 
sible." 

The  doctors  adopted  this  course.  Cups  and  blisters  were  ap 
plied  to  the  head  and  neck,  and  a  drop  of  Croton  oil  administered; 
and  there  was,  either  from  the  spoonful  of  aconite,  or  the  bleeding, 
happily  an  immediate  subsidence  of  the  paroxysms. 

Mrs.  Smith  talked  incessantly  about  the  Gentleman  in  Black 
and  Peter  Schlemihl,  and  then  of  "  lamps  which  never  burned 
dim,"  and  these  words  struck  her  husband  to  the  heart,  for  he 
remembered  too  well  his  last  words,  and  he  had  good  reason  to 
believe,  this  was  the  last  point  of  endurance  which  had  broken. 


310 


PETER  SCHLEMIHL. 


down  the  mind  of  his  lovely  wife,  and  had  induced  this  fearful 
malady. 

Doctor  "  A  No.  1"  took  Mr.  Smith  into  the  adjoining  room,  and 
having  seated  himself,  asked  Mr.  Smith  to  take  the  chair  next  him. 

"  I  beg  you  will  be  calm,  sir,"  said  "  A  No.  1 ;"  "  for  it  is  neces 
sary  that  I  should  inquire  as  to  the  predisposing  causes  which 
have  occasioned  this  dreadful  disease." 

"What  is  it,  sir — what  do  you  say  it  is?"  inquired  Mr.  Smith 
in  deep  dismay. 

"Sir,"  said  the  doctor,  "it  is  extremely  difficult  to  decide  at 
this  moment  whether  it  be  meningitis  or  cerebritis,  or  arachnitis. 
From  the  diagnosis  as  now  presented,  it  is  impossible  to  deter 
mine,  the  one  generally  giving  rise  to,  or  terminating  in,  the 
other  ;  but  a  slight  rigidity  on  one  side  of  her  body  seems  to  in 
dicate  it  as  cerebritis" 

"  What  do  I  know  of  all  these  phrases  ?"  said  Mr.  Smith  an 
grily.  "  I  want  to  know  what  is  the  matter  with  my  wife  ;  and, 
if  you  can't  tell  me,  I  will  ask  those  who  can." 

"  Sir,"  said  the  doctor,  angrily  in  return,  "  when  I  am  spoken 
to  professionally,  I  give  a  professional  reply.  If  you  want  a 
quack,  you  had  better  recall  the  man  I  found  here  on  my  en- 
terance." 

"  What  is  it  you  want  to  know  of  me  ?"  said  Mr.  Smith,  out  of 
patience,  and  yet  dreading  to  have  his  wife  deserted,  on  a  point  of 
mere  professional  pride. 

"  I  desire,  sir,"  said  "  A  No.  1,"  "  to  be  told  if  you  have  ob 
served  any  of  the  predisposing  symptoms  which  led  to  this  at 
tack." 

"  Such  as  what?"  asked  Mr.  Smith. 

"  Has  Mrs.  Smith  complained  of  a  throbbing  in  her  head  ?" 

"  Yes  '.her  d — d  party  has  made  her  miserable  for  a  week  past, 
and  she  has  complained  to  me  of  giddiness  at  times,  and  a  sense 
of  fullness  and  weight,  all  owing  to  the  anxiety  she  has  felt  for 
what, 'after  all,  has  been  a  complete  failure,  and  now,  may  be  the 
death  of  her.  Alas  !  my  poor  wife." 

"And  have  you  observed,  at  any  time  previous  to  her  attack, 
any  impatience  on  the  score  of  light?" 

"  Not  for  the  excess  of  light,"  said  Mr.  Smith,  "  but  for  the 
want  of  it.  Our  lamps  all  but  went  out  before  the  supper  was 
half  over." 

"  Then  you  think,"  said  the  doctor,  "  there  was  no  excess  of 
irritability  of  the  optic  nerve  observable?  I'm  glad  to  hear  you 
say  so." 

"  My  dear  doctor,"  said  Mr.  Smith,  in  the  utmost  confusion  of 
mind,  "  I  really  don't  know  " 


MR.  SMITH  INTERROGATED.  311 

"And  her  speech,  has  that  been  indistinct  and  difficult  of  arti 
culation,  or  has  she  been  excitable  and  hurried,  unusually  quick?" 

"  I  think,"  replied  Mr.  Smith,  "she  has  been  nervous  of  late, 
and  spoke  hurriedly.  She  certainly  did  so  just  before  I  left  her; 
but  God  forgive  me !  I  believe  I  was  the  cause  of  it  all." 

"  And  her  pulse — have  you  observed  whether  that  was  slow, 
or  has  it  been  unusually  quick?" 

"  Heaven  help  me.!"  exclaimed  poor  Mr.  Smith,  who  never 
would  have  been  put  down  in  the  primer  as  the  most  patient  of 
men,  "  I  never  felt  her  pulse  in  my  life." 

The  doctor,  perfectly  regardless  of  his  patient's  nerves,  with 
true  professional  scent,  followed  the  track  upon  which  he  had 
entered,  and  continued  his  inquiries,  and  asked,  "  if  Mrs.  Smith 
had  ever  exhibited  any  transient  fits  of  incoherence  or  confusion 
of  mind." 

"Never,  in  her  life,"  replied  her  poor  husband  ;  "  her  mind  is 
clear  as  light,  and  she  has  never  been  sick  a  day,  since  our  mar 
riage.  Alas  !  I  have  been  too  regardless  of  her,  and  supposed  she 
never  could  be  ill." 

"  You  will  pardon  me,  sir,"  said  "  A  No.  1,"  "  for  the  minute 
ness  of  these  inquiries,  but  it  is  important  in  this  disease,  not 
merely  to  ascertain  the  particular  symptom,  but  rather,  to  de 
termine  whether  there  is  a  correspondence  or  harmony  between 
the  symptoms." 

"  And  what  do  you  think  is  the  matter  with  my  wife  ?"  again 
asked  Mr.  Smith,  in  hope  of  getting  some  light  on  this  all  absorb 
ing  question. 

"It  seems  to  me,"  said  "A No.  1,"  "  though  I  am  compelled  to 
speak  from  the  diagnosis  as  now  presented,  it  is  a  case  of  general 
cerebritis.  The  brain,  as  you  know,  sir,  confessedly  presides  over 
the  phenomena,  which  are  attended  with  consciousness,  and  through 
the  pneumo gastric  nerve  it  influences  the  functions  of  digestion, 
and  indirectly,  through  the  respiratory  apparatus,  that  of  circula 
tion.  Now,  when  either  the  arachnoid  or  pia  mater,  which  closely 
invest  the  brain,  is  extensively  inflamed,  the  functions  of  this 
organ  become  inevitably  disturbed.  Hence,  in  arachnitis  or  me 
ningitis,  besides  headache  and  intense  fever,  we  have  a  general 
sensibility,  preternatural  excitement  of  the  external  senses,  violent 
delirium  and  convulsions,  as  you  observe  in  the  case  of  your 
wife,  and  which  usually  terminate  in  collapse,  coma  and  death." 

"You  are  one  of  Job's  comforters,"  said  poor  Mr.  Smith. 

"I  am,  sir,"  said  "A  No.  1,"  with  emphasis,  "a  physician,  and 
as  a  professional  man,  bound  to  state  the  facts  as  I  find  them." 
So  saying,  he  left  Mr.  Smith,  and  returned  to  the  sick  chamber. 

Mrs.  Smith's  disease  went  through  the  usual  phases.     There 


312  PETER  SCHLEMIHL. 

was  the  fearful  recess  of  fever,  when  all  the  powers  of  the  consti 
tution  seemed  verging  to  the  state  of  collapse.  For  a  whole  week 
some  one  of  her  physicians  was  constantly  at  hand.  All  that 
skill  and  care  could  do  was  done.  Mr.  Smith  never  left  the 
house ;  his  mind  was  wrought  up  to  the  highest  pitch  of  fear  and 
agony.  He  now  felt  the  unspeakable  worth  of  his  wife — the 
worthlessness  of  all  his  wealth  without  her,  should  she  be  taken 
from  him. 

Every  precaution  was  taken  to  keep  her  perfectly  quiet,  and 
free  from  every  degree  of  excitement,  and  her  physicians  told  Mr. 
Smith  that  the  most  trifling  cause,  any  slight  mental  emotion, 
would  bring  on  a  relapse. 

The  tidings  of  Mrs.  Smith's  illness  were  of  course  carried  with 
telegraphic  speed  through  all  the  cliques  and  circles  of  Babylon 
the  Less.  Scarcely  a  set  but  was  advised  of  all  the  particulars  of 
her  disease  before  the  next  evening. 

"It's  just  what  might  be  expected,"  said  Mrs.  Van  Dam  to 
Mrs.  Tripp,  who  had  called  to  talk  over  the  party.  "She  has 
gone  out  of  her  depth,  and  this  is  the  consequence.  Her  little 
head  was  doubtless  turned  by  seeing  so  many  people  in  her  par 
lors,  whom  she  has  before  only  seen  at  church  or  the  opera; 
and  whose  circles  have  been  as  far  beyond  her  reach,  as  the 
stars  over  her  head.  If  it  had  not  been  for  Mrs.  Worth,  I  never 
would  have  gone." 

"  My  dear  Mrs.  Van  Dam,"  replied  Mrs.  Tripp,  "  did  you  ever 
see  such  an  attempt  at  fine  manners  ?  And  the  way  she  wheedled 
De  Lisle  to  stand  by  her  and  hold  her  up  last  evening  !  He  looked 
for  awhile  really  taken  with  her,  and  had  she  ever  seen  society 
before,  I  would  have  sworn  she  was  coquetting  with  him.  The 
man  appeared  perfectly  beside  himself,  and  seemed  to  forget  every 
body  in  the  room  but  the  hostess  and  that  fair  sham-faced  girl  of 
the  Worths,  who  wore  the  spermaceti  on  her  shoulders  as  naturally 
as  she  would  have  worn  pearl-powder." 

"Did  you  hear  Mrs.  Offenheim  sing  last  night?"  continued 
Mrs.  Tripp. 

"  No !  I  was  playing  whist  in  the  library,"  replied  Mrs.  Van  Dam. 

"  I'm  sorry  you  missed  it.  She's  a  real  screech-owl.  Poor 
dear  Adela,  she  was  compelled  to  stand  by  her  and  play  the 
amiable;  but  it  was  almost  too  much  for  her  nerves:  she  didn't 
sleep  a  wink  last  night." 

"I  hear,"  said  Mrs.  Van  Dam,  looking  very  inquiringly  at 
Mrs.  Tripp,  "  that  Adela  was  attended  home  last  night  by  Mr. 
Winterbottom.  Was  it  so?"  Mrs.  Tripp  smiled  very  innocently, 
and  said: — "  Why,  you  see  Mr.  Winterbottom  didn't  know  these 
Smiths,  and  was  taken  by  surprise  at  receiving  an  invitation,  and 


MRS.  TRIP?  AND  MRS.  VAN  DAM.  313 

was  for  a  day  or  two  doubtful  if  he  would  accept.  I  told  him  by 
all  means  he  must  go;  but  he  said  he  should  feel  so  awkward, 
never  having  seen  the  hostess,  and  being  entirely  ignorant  of  her 
*  sef — '  Oh  !'  I  told  him,  '  she  had  no  set,  and  I  would  take  him 
under  my  wing,'  and  so  it  was  agreed.  He  had  the  politeness  to 
call  with  his  carriage,  long  before  I  was  ready,  but  happily  Adela 
was  dressed,  and  we  managed  to  help  him  through  the  difficulties 
of  an  evening  party,  for  you  know  he  affects  to  dislike  all  these 
sort  of  things;  but,  after  all, my  dear  Mrs.  Van  Dam,  these  sort  of 
men,  when  you  once  break  the  ice  for  them,  take  to  the  water  with 
all  the  eagerness  of  Newfoundland  dogs.  Mr.  Winterbottom  came 
away  delighted  with  everybody  and  everything." 

"  He  must  have  been  more  fortunate  than  most  of  us,"  said 
Mrs.  Van  Dam,  with  a  slight  asperity  of  manner.  "  As  for  myself, 
my  dress  is  positively  ruined.  I  am  a  hundred  dollars  out  of 
pocket  by  this  ambitious  lady's  first  party.  I  certainly  shan't  buy 
another  yard  of  silk  in  his  fine  shop  to  the  end  of  time.  He  don't 
make  money  out  of  me  by  his  splendid  parties,  I  can  tell  him." 

Mrs.  Tripp  gave  one  of  her  sharp,  bright  laughs,  and  took  her 
leave.  And  though  the  comments  made  in  other  parlors  may 
have  had  some  variations,  there  were  only  the  few,  as  the  Worths, 
the  Schuylers,  and  the  like,  who  did  not  ring  the  same  changes — 
chiming  harmoniously  on  the  folly  of  Mrs.  Smith — her  ambition 
and  its  just  and  necessary  fall. 

Among  the  exceptions,  were  Mr.  Winterbottom,  Mr.  De  Lisle 
and  other  gentlemen,  whose  admiration  had  been  called  forth  by 
the  admirable  bearing  and  grace  of  manners  of  their  newly  dis 
covered  hostess.  Winterbottom  and  De  Lisle  called  together 
during  the  day  to  make  personal  inquiries,  and  went  from  Mr. 
Smith's  to  Colonel  Worth's  to  tell  the  latest  intelligence.  It  was 
Mr.  De  Lisle's  first  visit  to  the  Worth  family.  Mrs.  Worth  and 
Grace  expressed  their  sorrow  and  sincere  sympathy;  they  spoke 
of  the  admirable  self-possession  shown  by  Mrs.  Smith;  the  diffi 
culties  of  her  position;  the  fine  sense  she  discovered  in  repairing 
the  mishaps  of  the  evening,  and  their  warm  hopes  that  she  would, 
recover. 

"  We  will  call,  Grace,"  said  Mrs.  Worth,  "  to  morrow,  and  see 
Mr.  Smith.  It  will  be  to  him  a  source  of  comfort  to  know  his 
guests  sympathize  with  him  in  his  deep  anxieties." 

"  1  admire  Mrs.  Smith,"  said  Grace  to  Mr.  De  Lisle,  "more 
than  any  one  I  have  ever  met.  My  prepossessions  are  all  in  her 
favor,  and  now  I  am  still  more  and  more  anxious  for  her  recovery, 
that  I  may  have  all  my  predilections  confirmed." 

Mr.  De  Lisle  called  daily  as  he  returned  up  town,  and  Mr. 
Winterbottom's  carriage  was  frequently  seen  standing  at  the  door 


314  PETER  SCHLEMIHL. 

of  Mr.  Smith's  ;  for  he  was  a  man  of  a  very  kind  heart,  and  took  a 
deep  interest  in  Mrs.  Smith's  recovery  :  and  the  Tripps,  finding 
Mr.  Winterbottom  interested  in  the  condition  of  Mrs.  Smith,  did 
not  fail  to  wear  the  aspect  of  the  tenderest  concern.  Indeed, 
Adela  and  her  mother  called  daily,  and  with  singular  good  fortune 
they  often  met  Mr.  Winterbottom  there. 

Poor  Mrs.  Smith's  delirium  continued.  She  incessantly  talked 
of  the  Gentleman  in  Black,  and  the  nurse,  who  was  acquainted 
with  Mrs.  Tripp,  told  her  of  the  strange  things  she  heard,  and 
Mrs.  Tripp  put  herself  under  the  greatest  possible  restraint  not  to 
go  to  her  clique  of  the  Virtuous  Indignation  Society,  and  tell  all 
this  rare  news.  But  the  fear  of  offending  Mr.  Winterbottom, 
whose  good  opinion  it  was  now  her  business  to  win  for  herself  and 
Adela,  compelled  her  to  wear  the  aspect  of  the  utmost  amability 
and  sympathy,  and  to  remain  silent. 

Still,  however,  to  her  dear  friend  Mrs.  Van  Dam,  she  whispered 
it  as  a  great  secret :  "  That  Mrs.  Smith  had  seen  the  devil  in 
propria  persona,  and  that  he  had  attempted  to  buy  her  soul  for 
a  supply  of  his  own  lamps ;  but  whether  she  had  actually  sold  her 
soul  to  him,  she  could  not  say,  but  from  what  she  had  been  told 
by  her  nurse,  she  presumed  she  had,  and  that  was  the  cause  of 
her  alarming  illness." 

Mrs.  Van  Dam's  zeal  for  controversy  made  her  overlook  the 
strangeness  of  Mrs.  Tripp's  story,  and  looking  at  her  with  some 
severity,  she  said — 

"  Mrs.  Tripp,  how  can  you  tell  me  such  a  tale  as  this,  when 
you  believe  there  is  no  devil — that  Satan  is  a  bug-bear,  only  an 
impersonation  of  evil  passions  ?" 

Mrs.  Tripp  was  for  once  embarrassed.  "  My  dear  friend,"  con 
tinued  Mrs.  Van  Dam,  seeing  Mrs.  Tripp  non-plussed,  "  I  fear 
you  will  find  out  too  late  that  Satan  is  no  fiction.  Ah !  all  this  infi 
delity  comes  from  the  unlicensed  liberty  of  dissent.  You  are  yet 
to  discover  that  there  is  no  safety  but  in  The  Church, — and  that 
there  is  no  "  church  without  a  bishop."  I  know,  madam,  you 
scoff  at  all  this  ;  but  truth  compels  you  sometimes  to  deny  your  own 
theory. — I  beg  you  to  give  up  your  heresy,  and  return  to  the 
bosom  of  the  church,  whose  arms  are  wide  open  to  embrace  you, 
and  in  whose  care  only  you  can  find  safety  and  rest." 

"Dear  Mrs.  Van  Dam,"  replied  Mrs.  Tripp,  "  I  don't  deny 
you  are  right ;  but  I  contend  we  are  all  right.  All  the  roads  of 
religious  life  converge  to  the  same  centre." 

Mrs.  Van  Dam  lifted  up  her  eyes,  and  folded  her  hands  over 
her  bosom  in  a  holy  horror.  "  There's  but  one  church,  and  by 
it  and  in  it  only  can  we  be  saved !" 

A  long  controversy  ensued,  in  which  happily  Mrs.  Smith  and 


MRS.  SMITH'S  RESTORATION  TO  REASON.  315 

her  Gentleman  in  Black  were  forgotten.  Both  ladies  lost  their 
temper,  and  parted  in  anger. 

"  What  a  heretic !"  said  Mrs.  Van  Dam  to  Lucille,  as  Mrs. 
Tripp  and  Adela  left  the  room. 

"What  a  bigot!"  said  Mrs.  Tripp  to  Adela,  as  they  reached 
the  pavement. 

The  crisis  of  Mrs.  Smith's  delirium  at  last  passed  away.  She 
looked  round  her  room  with  surprise,  and  found  it  darkened,  and 
her  husband  standing  at  the  foot  of  her  bed,  whispering  to  a 
gentleman  she  had  never  before  seen ;  she  tried  to  speak,  and 
then  discovered  her  excessive  weakness.  The  stranger  put  his 
finger  on  his  lip,  and  motioned  her  to  be  silent.  Mr.  Smith,  with 
a  tenderness  of  tone  and  manner  to  which  she  had  long  been  a 
stranger,  came  to  her  side,  and  whispered,  "  Dear  Julia,  you  are 
very,  very  sick ;  your  life  hangs  on  a  slender  thread ;  do  not 
speak,  make  no  effort,  and  all  will  be  well." 

The  tears  came  to  the  eyes  of  Mrs.  Smith,  as  her  husband 
spoke.  He  took  her  hand  in  his,  and  sat  looking  into  her  face 
with  the  earnest  love  of  early  days :  her  memory  recalled  the  day 
and  hour  when  that  first  look  of  love  had  been  felt  burning  upon 
her  cheek ;  and  closing  her  eyes  she,  wept :  they  were  tears  flow 
ing  from  the  luxury  of  gratified  affection,  and  she  felt  how  pre 
cious  was  that  sickness  which  restored  to  her  the  long-lost  assur 
ance  that  she  was  still  loved. 

The  tears  of  his  wife  opened  the  fountain  of  the  husband's  heart. 
He  felt  the  lighting  up  of  a  dreadful  load  of  anxiety  and  self- 
reproach,  and  bending  over  his  wife,  and  laying  his  cheek  on  hers, 
their  tears  flowed  full  and  fast,  and  for  the  first  time  in  their  lives, 
they  wept  together. 

The  doctor  beckoned  to  the  nurse  to  follow  him,— -^-and  soon 
after  Mr.  Smith  came  into  the  chamber  to  which  he  had  with 
drawn,  with  a  face  beaming  with  hope.  He  led  back  Dr.  Herpin, 
and  introduced  him  to  his  wife,  as  the  physician  whose  unsur 
passed  skill  and  unwearied  attentions  had,  with  God's  blessing, 
carried  her  thus  far  towards  her  recovery.  The  doctor  having 
said  a  few  soothing  words,  and  begging  Mrs.  Smith  to  keep  her 
mind  in  the  most  perfect  quietness,  withdrew. 

As  for  Mr.  Smith,  he  had  never  left  the  house  since  the  com 
mencement  of  his  wife's  sickness ;  he  was  almost  always  in  the 
chamber  with  his  wife;  s#w  all  who  called,  and  replied  to  their 
kind  inquiries  with  deep-felt  gratitude  for  their  sympathy.  Of 
all  who  came,  none  was  more  welcome  than  Miss  Worth.  While 
in  the  depths  of  despair,  she  comforted  him  as  best  she  could,  and 
when  he  burst  forth  in  a  sort  of  rage  against  that  most  unfortunate 
party,  she  soothed  him,  and  always  left  him  the  happier  for  her 


316  PETER  SCHLEMIHL. 

visit.  And  now  that  reason  was  once  more  restored  to  his  wife, 
he  longed  to  carry  Grace  and  her  mother  to  her  bed-side,  and  tell 
his  wife  how  kind  they  had  been,  and  how  much  of  aid  and  sup 
port  he  had  derived  from  their  sympathy. 

How  few  there  are  of  the  many  who  lose  the  freshness  of  their 
first  love,  in  whose  hearts  it  is  ever  re-awakened !  Oh,  to  how 
many  fond  hearts  is  "love's  young  dream"  the  oasis  of  the  desert 
of  life,  from  which  they  too  soon  awake  to  the  sad  consciousness 
that  the  consummation  of  their  hopes  was  the  tomb  of  their  hap 
piness  ! 

Mr.  Smith,  happily,  was  awakened  to  the  worth  of  his  wife,  her 
importance  to  his  happiness,  and  all  the  various  excellencies  of 
her  heart.  It  was  his  joy  to  find  this  out  on  this  side  the  grave. 
There,  and  there  only,  in  most  cases,  do  men  make  a  true  estimate  of 
the  treasures  they  have  unconsciously  possessed,  and  lost  forever. 

The  renewed  manifestations  of  affection  by  her  husband,  made 
the  sick  bed  to  Mrs.  Smith  the  happiest  days  of  her  life.  And 
her  physician,  so  soon  as  it  was  deemed  by  him  safe,  introduced 
the  admirable  customs  of  Germany  into  the  sick  room  of  his  pa 
tient.  At  first,  for  a  few  moments  of  each  day,  she  received 
her  friends  at  her  bed-side.  And,  certainly,  she  never  looked 
so  beautiful  as  when,  propped  up  by  pillows,  her  pale  face  shaded 
with  her  cap,  fringed  with  rich  broad  lace,  and  her  dark  hair 
simply  parted  over  her  forehead.  She  lay  on  a  bed  elegant  with 
all  the  elaborate  refinements  of  French  taste,  to  welcome  her 
kind  friends,  male  arid  female,  who  were  permitted  the  privilege 
of  seeing  her. 

As  instructed  by  her  physician,  they  were  only  allowed  to  steal 
into  the  room,  to  take  the  thin,  pale  hand  as  it  lay  on  the  bed, and 
kiss  it,  and  withdraw.  Soon  the  time  was  extended,  and  she  was 
permitted  to  be  congratulated  with  the  progress  of  her  recovery  ; 
and  in  this  way  her  sick  chamber  was  divested  of  the  solitude 
and  painful  sense  of  seclusion,  with  which  American  fastidious 
ness  and  false  delicacy  now  invest  it. 

Among  those  who  were  most  prompt  and  assiduous  in  availing 
themselves  of  the  privilege  of  so  visiting  Mrs.  Smith,  was  Mr. 
De  Lisle.  It  was  not  an  uncommon  circumstance  for  him  to  meet 
in  the  saloon,  Grace  Worth,  while  awaiting  his  turn  to  enter  the 
sick  chamber.  It  was  natural  for  them  to  speak  to  each  other  of 
their  friend  up  stairs,  and  to  express  their  mutual  hopes  for  her 
recovery  ;  other  topics  were  sometimes  introduced,  but  the  timidity 
of  Grace  seemed  all  but  invincible.  Such  was  her  humility  in 
her  own  attainments,  and  such  the  admiration  and  reverence 
she  felt  for  his  superior  talents,  that  she  was  pained  by  a  distrust 
of  her  powers  to  sustain  her  share  in  conversation,  and  blushed 


GRACE  WORTH.  317 

often  when  she  should  have  spoken,  and,  at  all  times,  felt  herself 
miserably  awkward.  Still  Mr.  De  Lisle  never  failed  to  address 
her  in  preference  to  any  other  lady  who  might  happen  to  be  pre 
sent,  arid  often,  when  they  left  the  house  together,  though  it  was 
directly  out  of  his  way,  he  found  it  in  his  way  to  attend  Grace 
to  her  own  door,  there  to  linger  for  a  moment,  or,  more  fre 
quently,  to  enter,  and  make  a  call  upon  her  mother.  It  must  be 
confessed,  few  mothers  were  more  worthy  of  a  call ;  few  whose 
wit  was  so  bright  and  playful ;  few  whose  conversation  was  so 
graceful  and  attractive,  while  her  heart  was  the  home  of  every 
generous  and  noble  sentiment,  and  a  sympathy  as  wide  as  it  was 
inexhaustible. 

It  was  natural  for  Mr.  De  Lisle  thus  to  cultivate  an  acquaint 
ance  with  the  mother  of  Grace  Worth— he  well  knew  that  the 
character  of  the  mother  would  be  developed  in  the  maturity  of 
life  by  her  daughter ;  and  it  was  with  the  sincerest  satisfaction 
he  found  in  Mrs.  Worth  the  most  beautiful  assemblage  of  all  the 
virtues  which  elevate  and  ennoble  woman.  Her  piety  was  earnest, 
simple,  and  sincere ;  devoted  to  her  husband,  and  fond  of  her  child ; 
possessing  a  high  appreciation  of  excellence  wherever  she  found 
it;  warm  in  her  friendships  ;  loved  and  confided  in  by  her  own 
sex — the  severest  and  surest  of  all  tests  to  which  a  woman  can  be 
subjected.  Nor  was  the  father  less  distinguished  for  his  virtues; 
his  heart  was  alive  to  the  interests  of  his  race  ;  his  philanthropy 
knew  no  narrow  restraints  of  sects  or  races,  but  in  every  move 
ment  made  for  the  amelioration  of  the  condition  of  mankind,  was 
always  ready  to  aid  by  his  counsels  and  contributions. 

As  we  have  before  said,  among  those  who  made  frequent  calls 
on  Mrs.  Smith,  were  Mrs.  Tripp  and  Adela,  for  as  they  had  dis 
covered  that  Mr.  Winterbottom  sometimes  called,  the  possibility  of 
meeting  him  was  a  motive  sufficient  to  keep  them  on  the  alert. 
As  Mrs.  Smith's  hours  of  receiving  visits  were  extended,  and  she 
was  able  now  to  converse  without  hazard  of  a  relapse,  one  morn 
ing  Mrs.  Tripp  was  so  kind  as  to  take  out  of  her  pocket  a  paper 
which,  she  said,  "I  am  sure,  my  dear  Mrs.  Smith,  you  will  be 
glad  to  see,  as  it  contains  an  account  of  your  party." 

Mrs.  Smith,  with  a  melancholy  expression,  smiled,  and  said, 

"  Alas  !  it  must  be  a  most  sad  affair." 

"  No,  dear  madam ;  considering  the  character  of  the  paper,  it 
is  every  way  flattering,  and  has  attracted  universal  attention. 
Shall  I  read  it  to  you  ?' 

"  May  I  ask  in  what  paper  it  appears  ?" 

"  The  paper  is  the  Troglodyte  Herald  and  Babylonian  Court 
Journal,"  replied  Mrs.  Tripp.  Mrs.  Smith  bowed,  and  Mrs. 
Tripp  read  as  follows  : 


318  PETER  SCHLEMIHL. 

"  Splendid  party  of  last  evening  among  *  the  Upper-cms?  of 
Babylon  the  Less. 

"  Last  evening,  according  to  appointment,  Mrs.  John  Smith  for 
the  first  time  illuminated  her  house  for  the  reception  of  her  new 
found  friends  residing  above  Blucher  Street.  The  well-known 
beauty  of  the  lady,  and  the  fine  taste  of  the  host,  made  this  party 
a  subject  of  general  interest,  since  the  cards  have  been  circulated. 
We  sent  as  usual  our  Ariel,  to  look  in  upon  the  group.  He  reports 
that  there  never  was  a  more  beautiful  coup-d'ceil,  when  he  entered 
— the  entire  stock  of  splendid  dresses  in  Mr.  John  Smith's  shop 
seemed  to  be  in  motion,  gracing  the  beautiful  forms  of  the  fashion 
of  Babylon.  Nothing  could  surpass  the  beautiful  taste  of  the  sa 
loons  opened  on  the  occasion.  After  supper,  there  were  the  usual 
mishaps  of  all  over-heated  parties ;  but,  as  our  Ariel  was  just  at 
that  time  taking  supper,  he  was  only  permitted  to  see  the  marks 
of  the  disaster,  which,  in  some  cases,  required  the  sufferers  to  leave 
at  an  earlier  hour  than  they  had  designed,  being  compelled,  to  use 
a  nautical  phrase,  to  haul  out  of  the  engagement  and  repair 
damages. 

"Our  Ariel  says  he  was  especially  delighted  with  the  exqui 
site  operatic  song,  sung  by  Miss  Adela  Tr pp,  which  was  list 
ened  to  with  the  most  absorbed  attention.  Miss  T pp  was 

waited  on  very  assiduously  by  Mr.  W rb m.  Mrs. 

Off nh m  was  in  fine  voice,  and  continued  singing  till 

past  midnight.  In  the  saloon  assigned  to  dancing,  Ariel  says: — 

"Gen.  S h,  Capt.  H ty,  ex- Alderman  of  the  6th  ward, 

and  son  of  Gen.  S.,  seemed  to  secure  happiness  to  themselves, 

by  making  others  happy  around  them.  Mr.  P 1,  Wm. 

T er,  G.  C er,  R.  C.  H m,  J.  F an,  W.  R no, 

W.  H.  H m,  J.  P 1,  all  of  whom  seemed  to  be  favorites 

among  the  bright  eyes.  Monsieur  R r,  of  your  city,  was  pre 
sent,  to  whom  we  had  the  pleasure  of  an  introduction.  Some 
went  home  early,  but  the  major  part  went  home  'under  escort.1 
The  room  was  richly  decorated  with  gorgeous  mirrors,  which  we 
should  more  particularly  notice,  had  we  space  and  time. 

"But  it  was  the  enchanting  and  fascinating  women  present 
that  made  the  evening  flow  away  like  a  glorious  stream.  It 
would  be  impossible  for  us  to  do  justice  to  all. 

'  Bright  arms  wreathed  lightly 
And  tresses  fell  free — 
Like  the  plumage  of  birds 
From  a  tropical  tree.' 

"  The  beautiful  Miss  Tr pp  seemed  aqueen  of  love  and  beau 
ty ;  her  dark  hair  was  arranged  with  taste,  her  step,  free  and  elastic, 


"  ARIEL'S"  ACCOUNT  OF  THE  PARTY.  319 

and  her  voice  like  the  low  murmur  of  a  forest  water-fall.     She  was 

accompanied  by  Mr.  W rb m.     Miss  H ty,  of  your 

city,  was  complimented  very  highly  for  her  good  dancing,  and 
seemed  to  attract  the  eye  of  more  than  one.  The  beautiful  Miss 

W ams,  and  the  admired  Miss  B on,  attracted  all  eyes. 

Miss  J on,  Miss  B ey,  Miss  S an,  and  Miss  C k, 

are  worthy  of  particular  notice.     The  two  Misses  P ys  were 

present,  and  disappointed  many,  who  thought  they  would  not 

mingle  in  the  dance.     Mrs.  R no,  would  have  been  an  honor 

to  the  first  European  drawing-room.     Mrs.  H m  ought  not  to 

be  forgotten.     The  two  Misses  W os,  of  your  city,  showed 

by  their  style  of  dancing  to  be  no  strangers  in  a  ball-room.     Miss 

.V ers  we  had  an  introduction  to,  and  was  in  hopes  we  might 

have  had  the  pleasure  of  her  hand  in  a  dance,  but  she  appeared 
to  be  well  supplied.  Two  little  nonpareil  creatures,  one  the 
daughter  of  ex-Alderman  P.,  were  as  free  and  joyous  as  gazelles. 
There  were  others,  too,  bright,  beautiful,  and  glorious,  but  who 
can  describe  them  ? 

"Of  all  places  for  observation  at  such  a  time,  give  me  a  corner, 
and  particularly  if,  like  myself,  you  are  so  unfortunate  as  to  be  a 
bachelor,  and  from  such  a  point,  as  the  stream  flows  along,  I  see 
the  fair  face  of  Miss  W s,  warmed  into  smiles  by  the  power 
ful  eloquence  and  devoted  attention  of  Mr.  C r;  Miss  F n 

D n  appears,  with  her  sunny  smiles  and  sweet  voice,  leading 

M r  and  Mr.  E f,  willing  captives  in   her  train.     Miss 

B h  passes — that  lovely  face  and  Haidee  eyes  appear  to  be 

the  shrine  at  which  Mr.  F n  O n  now  worships.     Now, 

that  rare  exotic,  Mrs.  F n  D n,  whose  pleasing  smiles  out 
rivaled  the  fair  blossoms  that  adorned  her  brow,  leaning  on  the 

arm  of  Dr.  S n ;   Miss  M r,  of  Warner  street,  with  her 

faithful  admirer,  Mr.  H h;  Miss  R y,  that  bright  planet 

of  our  horizon,  with  one  of  her  many  satellites,  Mr.  McC g. 

Then  Miss  W s,  whose  wit  and  glances  appear  to  absorb  Mr. 

B e ;   and  many  other  lovely  creatures  that  claim  an  equal 

share  of  notice,  if  time  would  admit  it.  Many  a  fair  form  to  me 
unknown;  many  a  bright  eye,  to  me  never  before  unclosed,  were 
stealing  hearts  away.  Thoughts  were  telegraphed  through  the 
medium  of  the  eye;  gentle  pressures  of  the  hand,  denoting  the 
formation  of  new,  or  the  continuance  of  old  feelings,  were  given 
and  returned ;  and  I,  who  was  only  fitted,  from  age,  to  be  a  looker 
on,  almost  renewed  my  years  again,  as  things  like  these  recalled 
the  days  of  yore. 

1  "The  party  broke  up  at  an  hour  unusually  early,  owing,  doubt 
less,  to  the  accident  to  which  we  refer.  There  is  no  doubt,  if  Mrs. 


320  PETER  SCHLEMIHL. 

Smith  gives  a  few  more  such  parties,  she  will  'define  her  posi 
tion'  in  the  upper  circles  of  Babylon,  without  a  doubt.     ARIEL." 

As  Mrs.  Smith  grew  stronger,  she  became  more  and  more  ca 
pable  of  recalling  all  the  scenes  of  the  evening  of  the  party,  and 
of  a  distinct  recollection  of  her  conversation  with  the  Gentleman 
in  Black,  and  the  scenes  in  the  mirror.  She  longed  to  tell  of  all 
these  to  some  one,  but  the  fear  of  ridicule  kept  her  silent;  and 
yet,  she  could  not  bring  herself  to  believe  it  had  been  all  an  illu 
sion. 

One  morning,  she  opened  the  subject  of  dreams  to  her  phy 
sician,  and  begged  him  to  tell  what  was  the  philosophy  of  dream 
ing.  The  doctor,  with  a  smile  which  she  could  not  account  for,  it 
was  so  full  of  meaning,  for  she  was  all  unconscious  of  her  loquacity 
while  in  a  delirious  state,  replied,  with  a  bow,  "That  he  should 
be  happy  to  tell  her  all  he  knew.  It  was  a  subject  of  great  diffi 
culty,  and  upon  which  much  had  been  written.  Dreams  were 
various  in  their  aspects,  and  arose  from  peculiar  conditions  of  the 
brain  and  nervous  system. 

"'The  Peripatetic,'"  continued  the  doctor,  "represented  dreams 
as  arising  from  a  presaging  faculty  of  the  mind.  Democritus  and 
Lucretius  looked  upon  them  as  spectres.  A  modern  writer,  An 
drew  Baxter,  imagined  that  dreams  were  prompted  by  spirits, 
who  had  access  to  the  sleeper's  brain,  with  the  faculty  of  inspiring 
him  with  various  ideas." 

"And  who  is  this  writer?  A  man  of  any  eminence?"  asked 
Mrs.  Smith. 

"  Yes!"  replied  the  doctor,  " a  man  distinguished  for  his  re 
searches  into  the  depths  of  the  soul.  In  a  sound  sleep,  dreams 
are  seldom  remembered,  whereas,  in  broken  sleep,  the  impression 
remains,  and  we  have  what  Forney  calls  'the  lucidity  of  dreams.' 
Sir  Thomas  Browne  had  a  very  high  opinion  of  dreams,  which  he 
styles  *  the  waking  of  the  soul.'  He  says  of  himself,  in  his 
Religio  Medici,  'I  was  born  in  the  planetary  hour  of  Saturn, 
and  I  think  I  have  a  piece  of  that  leaden  planet  in  me.  I  am  no 
way  facetious,  nor  disposed  for  the  mirth  and  galliarding  of  com 
pany;  yet,  in  one  dream,  I  can  compose  a  whole  comedy,  behold 
the  action,  apprehend  the  jests,  and  laugh  myself  awake  at  the 
conceits  thereof.'  " 

*'  It  is  very  \vonderful !"  said  Mrs.  Smith,  musing  as  she  spoke. 

"But  I  think,"  said  the  doctor,  "  we  must  look  for  the  causes 
of  dreams  in  physiology,  rather  than  in  psychology.  And  to  the 
condition  of  the  nervous  system,  we  must  look  for  jhe  exhaustion 
which  is  the  immediate  cause  of  sleep." 


PHILOSOPHY  OF  DREAMING.  321 

"  Do,  please,  make  me  to  understand  you,"  said  Mrs.  Smith, 
"if  it  be  possible  for  me  to  comprehend  a  subject  so  mysterious." 

"  The  subject,"  said  the  doctor,  smiling,  "  is  one  which  may 
not  be  so  attractive  in  its  details,  as  it  may  be  instructive  in  its  re 
sults." 

"  I  am  a  good  listener  just  now,"  said  Mrs.  Smith,  with  a  smile. 
"I  could  not  make  many  interruptions  if  I  wished  to  do  so." 

"  I  will  try  to  make  myself  so  plain  as  to  require  none,"  said 
the  doctor. 

He  continued — "The  parts  of  the  brain  and  spinal  marrow 
which  are  associated  with  the  nerves  and  muscles  of  the  sensitive 
system  generally,  from  the  effect  of  the  usual  stimulants  of  life, 
suffer  such  a  degree  of  exhaustion,  that  those  stimulants  can  no 
longer  excite  them  ;  and  their  functions,  unless  stronger  stimulants 
be  applied,  must  be  necessarily  suspended.  Impressions  from 
external  objects  consequently  are  no  longer  perceived,  and  there 
fore  cannot  produce  their  usual  effects  on  mind  or  body.  The 
expenditure  of  excitability  in  those  parts  of  the  brain  and  spinal 
marrow,  and  consequently  in  the  nerves  and  muscles  whose  func 
tions  depend  on  them,  being  arrested,  the  vital  functions  still  con 
tinuing,  such  an  accumulation  of  it  takes  place  in  all  these  organs, 
as  again  renders  them  sensible  to  the  usual  stimulants  of  life,  and 
the  activity  of  the  sensitive  system  is  restored.  The  exhaustion 
of  the  nervous  system  induces  sleep ;  its  totality  of  exhaustion  is 
death. 

"  In  a  dreamy  state,  we  find  the  sensitive  parts  of  the  brain, 
to  which  the  powers  of  the  mind  belong,  and  the  parts  associated 
with  them,  in  a  state  of  exhaustion,  but  not  such  a  state  of  ex 
haustion  as  prevents  their  being  excited  by  slight  causes,  while 
other  parts  of  the  system  are  still  in  a  state  of  activity. 

"  It  seems  greatly  to  influence  the  phenomena  of  dreaming, 
that,  in  order  to  favor  the  occurrence  of  sleep,  we  prevent,  as  much 
as  possible,  the  excitement  of  the  external  organs  of  sense,  and 
consequently,  those  parts  of  the  brain  corresponding  with  them. 
This  renders  us  the  more  sensible  to  causes  of  excitement  existing 
within  our  bodies,  while,  by  the  inactivity  of  those  parts  of  the 
brain  which  correspond  to  the  organs  of  sense,  we  are  deprived 
of  the  usual  control  of  such  parts  of  the  mental  functions  as  are 
thus  excited  ;  the  effect  of  which  is  greatly  increased  by  the  ra 
pidity  of  the  operations  of  the  memory  and  imagination,  when 
not  restrained  by  some  of  the  various  means  employed  for  that 
purpose  in  our  waking  hours.  These  are  often  objects  of  sense, 
as  written  language,  diagrams,  sounds,  and,  sometimes,  even  ob 
jects  of  touch ;  but  the  most  common  is  the  mere  use  of  words, 
independently  of  any  object  presented  to  our  senses. 
21 


322  PETER  SCHLEMIHL. 

"Thus,  my  dear  madam,"  said  the  doctor,  "having  stated  my 
premises,  I  will  make  my  application." 

"I  presume,"  said  Mrs.  Smith,  with  a  languid  smile,  "I  shall 
better  understand  the  last  than  the  first — pray,  try  me." 

The  doctor  smiled  and  bowed.  "  Any  one  may  perceive  how 
difficult  it  is  to  pursue  a  train  of  reasoning  without  the  means  of 
detaining  his  ideas  for  the  purpose  of  steadily  considering  them 
and  comparing  them  together.  Now  in  sleep,  in  consequence  of 
the  excitement  depending  on  the  brain  being  so  partial,  we  are 
deprived  of  all  these  means  ;  and  our  ideas  pass  with  such  ra 
pidity  as  precludes  all  consideration  and  comparison.  Our  con 
ceptions  are,  therefore,  uncorrected  by  experience,  and  we  are  not 
at  all  surprised  at  the  greatest  incongruities.  Why  should  we  be 
surprised  at  our  moving  through  the  air,  when  we  are  not  aware 
that  we  have  not  always  done  so?  The  mind  of  the  dreamer 
differs  from  that  of  the  infant  in  having  a  fund  of  ideas  laid  up  in 
it  which  may  be  partially  recalled  ;  but  it  resembles  it  at  the 
same  time  in  being  void  of  the  results  of  experience,  and  conse 
quently,  with  the  exception  of  this  partial  operation  of  experience, 
of  the  means  of  correcting  the  ideas  excited  in  it.  In  general, 
'there  is  neither  time  nor  means  for  doubt  or  hesitancy." 

"Yes,  I  have  experience  of  that  being  so,"  said  Mrs.  Smith. 

"  Such  is  our  rapidity  of  thought  in  dreaming,"  continued  the 
doctor,  "that  it  is  not  uncommon  for  a  dream, excited  by  the  noise 
that  wakes  us,  and  which,  therefore,  must  take  place  in  the  act 
of  waking,  to  require  more  than  fifty  times  the  space  in  the  rela 
tion.  It  is  a  good  illustration  of  what  I  have  said,  that,  when 
we  dream  we  are  conversing,  and  thus  obliged  to  employ  words, 
the  usual  incongruities  of  dreaming  do  not  occur." 

"Indeed,"  said  Mrs.  Smith;  "and  why  so?" 

"Because  the  ideas  are  sufficiently  detained  to  enable  us  to 
correct  the  suggestions  of  the  imagination.  Now,  madam,  to 
conclude.  The  peculiarities  of  dreaming  arise  from  partial  causes 
of  disturbance  of  the  brain,  and  some  of  the  sensitive  parts  of  the 
brain  being  capable  of  excitement  without  disturbing  others  ;  and 
thus  it  is,  that  the  more  near  we  are  to  waking,  the  more  rational 
our  dreams  become — all  parts  of  the  brain  beginning  to  partake  of 
the  excitement, — which  has  given  rise  to  the  adage,  'morning 
dreams  are  true.'  " 

"  I  thank  you,  doctor.  I  wonder  if  evening  dreams  are  al 
ways  false  ;  but  I  will  not  detain  you  any  longer.  I  hope  to  re 
tain  some  of  these  thoughts,  and  to  see  why  some  dreams  are 
more  clear  and  perfectly  defined  than  others." 

On  the  long-looked-for,  and  long-wished-for  day,  on  which  his 
wife  was  permitted  to  descend  to  her  parlor,  Mr.  Smith  came 


INFLUENCE  OF  ROMANISM  ON  THE  ARTS.          323 

home  at  the  hour  to  help  her  down  stairs.  It  seemed  to  he  his 
greatest  gratification  to  render  her  all  the  little  aid  and  assistance 
she  required,  and  would  not  permit  her  nurse  even  to  do  her  any 
little  service,  when  present,  which  it  was  in  his  power  to  render 
her.  As  she  entered  the  room,  she  had  a  most  expressive  evi 
dence  of  his  considerate  care  ;  every  covering  soiled  on  the  night 
of  the  party  had  been  replaced,  and  no  trace  of  injury  to  her  car 
pets  could  be  seen.  Mrs.  Smith  turned  to  her  husband  with  a 
look  of  grateful  affection,  and  threw  her  arms  around  his  neck. 
No  word  was  spoken — none  were  needed  ;  but  Mr.  Smith  in 
stantly  diverted  her  attention  to  some  beautiful  pictures  he  had 
purchased  as  an  agreeable  surprise  to  her  on  her  coming  once 
more  into  her  parlors.  They  were  selected  with  great  taste,  and 
the  subjects  were  all  in  harmony  with  the  beauty  of  the  rooms. 
There  was  no  Judith  with  the  bleeding  head  of  Holofernes ;  no 
St.  John  Baptist's  head  in  a  charger ;  no  Rebecca  surprised  by 
the  elders;  no  Venus  and  Mars  under  their  iron  veil.  And, 
especially,  were  there  noundistinguishable  masses  of  brown  paint 
from  the  pencils  of  the  "  old  masters  ;"  but  all  pictures  pleasing 
at  the  first  glance,  and  pleasing  always,  awakening  emotions  of 
delight  from  the  blending  of  light  and  shade,  or  of  grace  and 
loveliness  portrayed  on  the  canvas.  There  was  not  a  single  master 
of  the  "Old  School"  among  them,  but  all  fresh  from  the  easels  of 
native  artists — men  who  have  only  to  be  patronized  to  attain  the 
perfectibility  of  the  past  age,  with  all  the  superadded  attractiveness 
of  scenes  and  subjects  of  present  interest — a  matter  of  no  small 
value,  if  common  sense  were  to  prevail  in  these  matters. 

It  is  strange  how  many  are  the  perversions  of  the  arts  of  paint 
ing,  which  originated  in  the  stupidities  of  monks  and  nuns,  who 
have  controlled  the  flight  of  genius,  and  tasked  it  to  the  impossi 
bilities  of  combining  the  unities  of  the  arts  of  design  with  their 
monkish  superstitions. 

Chateaubriand,  in  his  "Genie  du  Christianisme,"  speaks  of  these 
obligations  of  the  fine  arts  to  Christianity — a  word  which  means, 
with  him,  Romanism;  and  most  Protestants  have  taken  his  dicta 
for  Gospel  truth:  but  there  is  a  reverse  to  this  medal,  and  it  is 
thus  presented  by  Robert  Robinson,  in  his  "Researches,"  p.  259: 

"Of  all  the  descendants  of  Adam,  an  enthusiast  is  the  most 
ridiculous,  and  of  all  enthusiasts,  a  sacred  fanatic  in  holy  orders 
is  the  most  perverse.  These  gentry  got  uppermost  in  Spain,  and 
in  spite  of  all  the  glare  which  a  profusion  of  wealth  throws  over 
the  arts,  artists  groan  for  freedom  from  the  barbarous  hands  of 
such  masters.  Two  examples  may  suffice: 

"Spain  hath  produced,  at  least,  two  hundred  capital  painters, 
and  pictures  are  innumerable;  but  the  religion  of  the  country 


324  PETER  SCHLEMIHL. 

narrows  the  field  of  fancy,  and  keeps  wholly  out  of  sight  the  finest 
subjects  of  history-painting,  while  it  brings  forward  a  set  of  unin 
teresting  beggars,  called  saints,  whose  idle  pranks,  real  or  feigned, 
represented  in  beautiful  coloring,  occupy  places  due  to  actions 
of  magnanimity  and  virtue  worthy  of  imitation  by  all  posterity. 
A  traveler  should  not  fall  languid  at  the  sight  of  an  historical 
painting;  he  should  catch  fire,  and  return  a  wiser  and  a  better 
man.  An  artist  let  alone,  would  produce  such  effects,  but  when 
the  fatal  hand  of  superstition  guides  the  pencil,  it  aims  at  nothing 
nobler  than  to  make  a  devotee  snivel.  Even  Italy,  with  all  its 
fine  ancient  models,  is  vitiated  with  this  bad  taste;  and  in  Spain 
it  is  much  worse.*  To  say  nothing  of  pictures  of  St.  Augustine 
pulling  out  a  beam,  which  a  bungling  carpenter  had  cut  too  short, 
by  miracle  to  its  proper  length,  or  the  flaying  alive  of  St.  Bar 
tholomew,  or  of  the  Virgin  Mary  squeezing  milk  out  of  her 
breasts,  for  the  relief  of  souls  in  purgatory,  or  of  St.  Nicholas  in 
bed  causing  roasted  partridges  to  fly  away  because  it  was  fast-day, 
or  of  Christ  standing  on  the  basin  of  a  fountain,  spouting  out 
blood  from  his  five  wounds;  or  of  many  more  of  the  same  kind: 
there  is  one  in  the  Escurial  which  deserves  notice.  One  of  the 
finest  pictures  in  Spain,  perhaps  in  the  world,  is  that  called  Ma 
donna,  or  our  lady  of  the  fish,  in  the  old  church  of  the  Escurial, 
painted  by  Raphael.  Never  did  the  eye  behold  a  finer  piece,  if 
a  judgment  may  be  formed  from  engravings. 

"There  is,  however,  in  this, as  in  other  of  Raphael's  paintings, 
an  anachronism.  How  could  a  man  of  his  true  taste,  in  a  picture 
of  the  transfiguration,  place  two  Franciscan  monks  on  the  top 
of  Mount  Tabor,  not  far  from  Christ,  Moses  and  Elias?  'My 
astonishment  ceased,'  says  a  connoisseur,  'when  I  was  informed 
that  he  painted  that  picture  by  qrder  of  a  community  of  Capuchin 
friars.'  A  community  of  nuns  gave  Raphael  the  following  per 
sonages  to  be  embodied  in  a  picture :  Christ,  the  Virgin  Mary, 
St.  Jerome,  Raphae^  the  Archangel,  and  his  young  pupil  Tobias. 
None  but  Raphael  could  have  formed  so  extraordinary  and  beau 
tiful  a  picture  from  a  subject  so  sterile  and  unconnected,  but  Ra 
phael  could  not  perform  impossibilities,  and  the  anachronism  is  a 
take-off  which  can  never  be  removed.  Had  the  state  provided 
husbands  for  these  devout  ladies,  and  settled  the  mansion  and  the 
farms  on  the  painter,  all  free  from  the  superintendence  of  a  priest, 
he  would  have  enjoyed  the  luxury  of  being  Raphael  alone,  and 
his  works  would  have  been  as  perfect  as  his  taste.  Ah !  who  can 

*  See  Turnbull's  Collection  of  Paintings  and  Sculptures.  Gresley's  Obser 
vations  on  Italy.  Dr.  Moore's  Travels.  Baretti.  Twiss.  Walpole's  Anec 
dotes  of  Paintings. 


ADELA  TRIPP.  325 

help  deploring  the  fate  of  those  artists  whose  work-shops  face  a 
Court  of  the  Inquisition  !"* 

On  entering  the  library,  the  surprise  of  Mrs.  Smith  was  great, 
to  see  on  the  shelves  the  very  folios  which  had  been  referred  to 
by  the  Gentleman  in  Black — and  she  became  strangely  mystified, 
but  kept  her  cogitations  to  herself;  still  the  conviction  grew  day  by 
day,  as  she  visited  the  library,  and  took  the  seat  she  had  occupied 
in  her  vision,  that  the  Gentleman  in  Black  was  a  real  personage — 
that  Peter  Schlemihl  was  now  walking  the  streets  of  Babylon. 
Indeed,  whenever  she  heard  a  noise  behind  her, she  turned  quickly 
round  as  if  expecting  to  see  the  one  or  to  feel  the  kiss  of  the  other 
warmly  impressed  upon  her  cheek. 

"  Poor  Peter,  I  wish  he  would  come,"  she  said  to  herself.  "I 
should  then  be  satisfied.  It  cannot  be  it  was  all  a  dream.  Sir 
Thomas  Browne  never  composed  such  a  story  in  his  life !" 


CHAPTER  XIV. 

Adela  Tripp's  first  love,  in  which  the  narrative  goes  back  to  a  conference 
between  Mrs.  Tripp  and  Adela — Expensiveness  of  daughters — Duty  of 
eldest  daughters  to  get  out  of  the  way  of  their  sisters — Mrs.  Tripp  proposes 
Mr.  Winterbottom — Character  of  old  Van  Tromp  in  contrast  with  Mr. 
Tripp — Mrs.  Tripp's  plans  of  securing  Mr.  Winterbottom — Story  of  Adela's 
first  love — Results  of  target  practice  on  Frank  Stanly — Reaction  upon 
herself — As  directed  by  her  mother,  dismisses  Frank — His  melancholy — 
Janet  Strahan's  love  for  Frank — Conduct  of  her  parents — Frank  avows  his 
love  for  Janet,  and  is  accepted. 

IN  order  that  our  readers  may  better  understand  the  position 
of  the  characters,  we  have  introduced  to  their  acquaintance,  it  is 
proper  to  go  back  a  little,  and  to  relate  an  interview  which  took 
place  at  Mr.  Tripp's. 

A  short  time  before  this  first  grand  party  was  given  by  Mrs. 
Smith,  Mrs.  Tripp  was  seated  with  her  daughter,  contriving  the 
dresses  to  be  worn  on  that  night,  when  the  following  conversation 
took  place.  They  had  been  speaking  of  the  various  matches 
which  had  been  announced,  which  were  to  be  consummated  during 
the  coming  holidays. 

"My  dear  Adela,  it  is  time  you  should  be  disposed  of.     Jo- 

*  R.  Robinson,  p.  260. 


326  PETER  SCHLEMIHL. 

sephine  is  now  about  to  enter  upon  her  second  season,  and  unless 
you  make  haste,  you  may  be  compelled  '  to  dance  in  the  brass 
kettle.' " 

"  I  should  have  been  in  no  danger  of  it,  had  my  own  wishes 
been  gratified,"  replied  Adela. 

"And  married  Frank  Stanly,  a  poor  clerk  !  And  what  would 
you  have  done  as  the  wife  of  Frank  Stanly?" 

"  Alas  !  that  is  true.  I  am  a  worthless  accomplished  girl,  fit  for 
no  useful  purpose  on  earth,  but  to  aid  in  the  gayeties  of  fashion 
able  life." 

"My  dear,  you  are  eminently  endowed  with  beauty,  and  to 
these  your  father  and  myself  have,  at  great  expense,  joined  all  the 
advantages  of  a  highly  fashionable  education,  and  it  is  now  for 
you  to  avail  yourself  of  your  position,  and  make  a  good  match  for 
yourself." 

"Poor  Frank!"  sighed  Adela;  "  he  loves  me,  and  would  coin 
his  heart's  blood  to  make  me  happy;  but  I  am  fitted  for  no  life  of 
sacrifices,  and  must  give  up  all  hope  of  happiness." 

"  You  talk,  child,  like  a  simpleton,"  replied  Mrs.  Tripp  sharply. 
"Is  there  no  happiness  in  a  good  position  in  society?  Are  you 
so  stupid  as  to  believe,  'the  love  you're  only  rich  in,  will  light  a 
fire  in  the  kitchen?  or  the  little  God  of  Love  turn  the  spit?'  If 
you  think  so,  you  are  not  the  Adela  Tripp  I  take  you  to  be." 

"  No,  mother,  I  am  not  so  great  a  simpleton,  though  poor  Frank 
is.  He  would  persuade  me  that  such  love  as  ours  must  command 
the  bliss  of  heaven  on  earth.  To  him  no  sacrifice  is  great  to 
possess  my  affections,  but  I  have  been  educated  by  my  mother, 
and  I  have  some  of  the  wisdom  she  possesses  in  such  great  mea 
sure.  I  know  it  cannot  be  so,  yet  I  am  willing  to  wait  the  chances 
of  life.  He  may  yet  become  a  junior  partner,  and  be  able  to  meet 
the  cost  and  charges  of  a  married  life  such  as  my  tastes  demand." 

"Well,  my  child,  if  you  can  wait,  7  can't.  Your  last  winter 
cost  your  father  a  thousand  dollars,  and  he  can't  afford  such  cost; 
and  besides,  he  has  other  daughters  to  bring  out.  Sophia  and 
Elizabeth  are  fast  approaching  the  time  they  too  must  make  their 
appearance  in  society." 

"A  thousand  dollars!  how  can  you  say  so?  I  never  spent  over 
three  hundred  a  year,  and  I  am  sure  no  young  lady  can  dress 
with  more  economy,  and  retain  her  position  in  the  circles  in  which 
we  move." 

"  But  did  we  not  give  a  party  for  you  last  winter? — and  did  not 
that  cost  with  all  the  economy  I  could  exert,  full  seven  hundred 
dollars?" 

Adela  sighed — "  If  father  deems  his  children  such  a  bill  of  cost 


DUTY  OF  DAUGHTERS.  327 

to  him,  I  only  wonder  he  should  ever  have  incurred  such  unwel 
come  responsibilities." 

"Adela  Tripp,  you  astonish  me!"  cried  her  mother.  "But, 
child,  here  you  are,  and  you  must  get  through  the  world  as  best 
you  may,  and  I  tell  you,  you  must  hasten  and  be  out  of  the  way 
of  your  sisters." 

«*  Pray,  what  can  I  do  ?"  asked  Adela  ;  "  I  have  rejected  no  one 
but  poor  Frank." 

"And  poor  Frank,  as  you  call  him,"  replied  the  mother,  "  has 
kept  you  from  making  use  of  your  eyes  for  any  one  but  him.  I 
wish  he  had  been  at  Jericho  before  he  ever  crossed  your  path. 
Don't  you  know  I  tell  you  the  truth?  There  was  Mr.  Herring, 
on  the  very  brink  of  falling  in  love  with  you,  but  he  drew  back 
when  he  saw  you  were  pre-occupied  by  this  poor  clerk." 

"  Oh  !"  said  Adela,  with  tears  in  her  eyes,  "  how  can  you  think 
it  possible  for  me  to  love  a  man  so  hateful  to  rne  ?" 

"  And  why  so  hateful  ?  because  you  were  besotted  with  this 
young  man  who  has  only  his  personal  attractions  to  commend 
him.  Mr.  Herring  is  a  man  of  wealth." 

"Yes  !  and  a  man  of  years,  too,"  replied  Adela — "  with  sons 
older  than  myself.  What  a  sight  it  would  be  to  see  me  dancing 
with  his  fine,  fashionable  sons,  while  my  husband  sits  gaping  and 
dozing  on  a  sofa,  wishing  me  out  of  the  ball  room  before  midnight. 
No  !  I  can't  do  that." 

"And  there's  Mr.  Winterbottom — he  has  no  sons,"  said  Mrs. 
Tripp. 

"  But  he's  so  cold  and  so  very  precise,"  replied  Adela. 

"Ah!  my  child,  but  then  he's  so  rich.  Now,  Adela,  I  have  a 
plan  for  you  which  cannot  fail  to  prove  successful,  and  all  I  ask 
of  you  is  your  co-operation — shall  I  have  it  ?" 

Adela  was  silent — the  tears  stole  down  her  cheeks,  and  there 
was  evidently  deep  emotion  in  her  soul;  and  her  mother  sat  with 
eagle  eye  watching  her  face,  to  see  if  this  tempest  of  passion 
should  burst  into  a  rage  of  tears,  or  subside. 

Adela  wiped  away  her  tears — and  said,  "  Mother,  I  have  no 
choice — I  am  unfit  to  be  the  wife  of  Frank — I  must  give  up  the 
only  passion  I  ever  cherished — he  deserves  a  better  wife  than  I 
can  make  him,  and  I  will  not  mar  the  happiness  of  one  I  can 
never  myself  realize.  I  am  the  creature  of  fashionable  life ;  to 
such  condition  I  was  born,  and  I  must  fulfil  my  destiny.  I  am 
ready  to  follow  your  lead,  lead  where  it  may  this  side  of  infamy." 

"  My  dear  Adela,"  replied  Mrs.  Tripp,  in  a  soothing  tone, 
"you  positively  shock  me.  I  only  wish  to  see  you  well  placed 
in  life,  and  I  know  this  can  be  attained.  Now  you  shall  have  my 
plan.  Mr.  Winterbottom  is  every  way  worthy  of  you.  He  is  a 


328  PETER  SCHLEMIHL. 

man  of  amiable  and  excellent  qualities;  he  has  eminently  a  good 
heart,  and  is  very  fond,  as  you  know,  of  music,  and  has  shown,  in 
his  recent  visits,  since  his  return  from  Europe,  great  pleasure  in 
listening  to  you.  He  evidently  thinks  you  a  fine  girl,  and  such 
men  must  have  sentiments  susceptible  of  being  awakened  to  the 
pleasures  of  domestic  life.  All  that  is  needed  is  to  gently  draw 
him  on ;  to  make  our  family  circle  pleasant  to  him ;  to  give  him  all 
fitting  opportunities  to  appreciate  your  qualities  to  make  his  home, 
now  so  desolate  in  all  its  splendors,  attractive  to  himself,  and  plea 
sant  to  his  friends.  I  will  have  him  invited  to  this  party,  and  he 
shall  go  with  us." 

Adela  fell  into  a  fit  of  abstraction,  and  awaking  out  of  it,  said, 
"  Mother,  if  I  give  up  Frank,  as  I  must  and  will,  may  I  not  be 
allowed  another  year  to  suit  myself  to  a  husband  who  will  be  to 
my  taste  ?  I  don't  see  that  my  chances  are  so  desperate.  There's 
Teresa  Van  Tromp,  whose  engagement  has  just  come  out  to  young 
M'Shane,  why  may  I  not  be  as  successful?" 

"  Because,  my  dear,  your  father  is  not  a  Van  Tromp,"  replied 
Mrs.  Tripp,  with  great  asperity  of  tone.  "  You  know  as  well  as  I, 
that  your  father  won't  lift  up  his  finger  to  help  you  on  in  this 
matter.  You  know  he  has  the  most  ridiculous  notions  in  the 
world  on  these  subjects.  He  is  not  a  president  of  a  bank,  and 
has  no  moneyed  influence  to  exert  in  favor  of  any  son-in-law  of  his, 
and  if  he  had,  he  is  the  man  who  would  see  his  sons-in-law  bank 
rupt  before  he  would  exert  it." 

"And  didn't  old  Van  Tromp  let  Mr.  Simpkins  go  down  in  the 
crash  of  1836  ?"  said  Adela. 

"  It  is  true,"  said  Mrs.  Tripp,  "  that  Simpkins  did  suspend  pay 
ment  for  a  while,  and  old  Van  Tromp  roared  out  against  him  like 
a  lion,  yet  he  was  soon  pacified  ;  and  then  'Old  Van'  showed  him 
self  an  ace  of  trumps,  for  he  nobly  paid  ofTall  his  creditors,  and  set 
him  a  going  again,  and  has  ever  since  had  an  oversight  of  his 
affairs.  Now,  then,  don't  you  see  what  a  bonus  old  Van  Tromp  has 
offered  to  any  young  man  whose  stocks  hang  heavy,  and  whose 
affairs  are  somewhat  embarrassed  ?  Believe  me,  Adela,  there's 
not  a  set  of  girls  in  Babylon  whose  chances  are  better  than  theirs; 
and  Katrine  Van  Tromp,  though  she  weighs  a  ton,  will  be 
deemed  as  'good  as  old  gold'  one  of  these  days,  and  you  will  see 
her  well  married,  when  you  and  all  your  fine  accomplishments 
hang  dead  in  the  market." 

Adela  sighed  again  deeply.  "I  don't  see  how  I  am  to  win  Mr. 
Winterbottom.  He  has  been  a  long  time  in  this  world,  and  has 
withstood  all  the  attractions  which  have  been  brought  to  bear  upon 
him  ;  and  what  hope  can  I  have  of  being  successful  when  so  many 
have  failed?" 


329 

"  Leave  all  that  to  me,  Adela.  Propinquity,  my  child,  is  all  that 
is  required;  fortunate  opportunities  and  agreeable  interviews  will 
do  the  rest.  We  will  have  some  nice  little  parties  this  winter,  a 
few  good  dinners,  and  as  you  ride  with  grace  and  elegance,  and 
Mr.  Winterbottom  loves  his  horse  so  well,  you  shall  ride  out  with 
him.  Other  girls  have  had  no  clever  mothers  to  help  them,  and 
I  must  say,  few,  if  any,  possess  the  powers  of  pleasing,  and  the 
address,  of  Adela  Tripp.  All  I  ask  is  that  you  give  your  whole 
soul  to  the  task,  and  allow  yourself  fair  play.  And  I,  too,  will 
secure  the  aid  of  the  Van  Tromps  and  the  Van  Dams  to  aid  us." 

"The  Van  Tromps  and  the  Van  Dams!"  exclaimed  Adela. 
"You  must  be  crazy  to  think  of  the  possibility  of  such  a  thing. 
Have  they  not  done  their  best  to  ensnare  him  for  themselves  ?  and 
do  you  think  they  will  help  you?" 

"Yes,  my  child,  they  will!  and  for  the  very  reason  you  give. 
They  have  long  since  left  the  chase,  and  their  hatred  of  a  man 
who  has  declined  all  their  overtures,  can  be  brought  to  play  to 
our  advantage." 

"Dear  mother,  you  are  very  clever,  I  well  know,  but  I  doubt 
your  ability  to  change  these  hyenas  into  lambs.  Have  they  not 
ridiculed  you,  and  made  me  the  sport  of  their  malice?  and  can 
you  be  so  mad  as  to  believe  they  will  come  to  aid  you  to  succeed 
in  the  very  effort  in  which  they  have  so  signally  failed  ?" 

"Certainly  they  will,  for  these  very  reasons.  They  would 
gladly  have  put  an  extinguisher  upon  you,  but  they  can't  do  it; 
they  dread  to  come  in  contrast  with  your  attractions,  which  they 
affect  to  despise;  and  they  will  rejoice  when  you  are  disposed 
of;  and  they  would  doubtless  deem  themselves  revenged  on  Mr. 
Winterbottom  by  helping  him  on  to  a  union  with  you.  And  then, 
too,  they  would  be  stimulated  and  rewarded  by  being  your  brides 
maids,  and  sharing  in  the  splendid  parties  you  will  give.  All 
these  matters  I  can  manage  through  their  mothers;  leave  that  to 
me;  only  give  up  your  soul  to  this  labor  of  love." 

"  Labor  of  love,  indeed  !  To  me,  mother,  it  is  a  stern  task  of  soul ; 
but  it  is  my  sad  destiny,  and  I  submit." 

"My  child,  don't  talk  so  despondingly.  Think  of  the  advan 
tages  you  will  gain,  the  splendid  saloons  in  which  you  are  de 
stined  to  shine,  the  ability  you  will  possess  of  patronizing  those 
who  have  dared  to  patronize  you,  and  the  satisfaction  you  will 
have  of  repaying  all  these  old  scores  with  interest,  and  then,  too, 
you  will  be  able  to  bring  forward  your  sisters — " 

"Alas!"  sighed  Adela,  interrupting  her  mother  in  her  Alcan- 
zar-like  dream,  "I  wish  I  had  never  been  born,  or,  if  born,  I  had 
come  into  the  world  some  years  later ;  then  I  might  have  been 
happy." 


330  PETER  SCHLEMIHL. 

"Happy!  who  so  happy  as  yourself — who  will  be  so  envied? 
You  talk  like  a  mere  school  girl."  Here  Mrs.  Tripp  paused  for 
a  reply. 

"Is  it  so,  mother?  Is  love  nothing?  Is  the  healthful  play  of 
the  affections  nothing?  And  shall  I  not  live  to  envy  the  woman 
who  will  make  Frank  Stanly  happy?  But  there  is  one  motive, 
mother,  you  have  overlooked.  I  shall,  I  hope,  be  able  to  induce 
Mr.  Winterbottom  to  lend  his  aid  in  the  creation  of  his  fortunes. 
It  shall  be  done  with  all  stealthiness.  Frank  shall  never  discover 
the  source,  and  I  shall  be  happy  to  know  I  have  done  as  the  wife 
of  another,  what  I  am  powerless  to  do  as  his  own." 

Mrs.  Tripp  looked  at  Adela,  who  now  sat  in  deep  thought, 
with  a  smile,  almost  a  sneer,  and  willing  to  aid  her  castle-building, 
she  said,  with  apparent  enthusiasm — 

"  Yes,  Adela,  arid  you  may  adopt  one  of  his  children,  perhaps, 
as  your  own — " 

Adela  started — "And  am  I  then  to  die  childless!"  she  ex 
claimed. 

Mrs.  Tripp  discovered  her  sarcasm  had  waked  up  a  most  pain 
ful  thought.  "Childless!"  exclaimed  the  mother,  as  if  the  idea 
was  absolutely  amazing;  "how  can  you  think  so?  Has  not  Mrs. 
Younghusband  recently  had  twins,  and  there's  Florida  Klein  has 
brought  her  husband  up  to  par  by  a  boy  that  weighs  fourteen 
pounds!" 

These  were  examples  in  point,  and  Adela  took  the  consolation 
they  were  so  well  calculated  to  afford. 

Adela  now  surrendered  at  discretion,  and  the  result  of  the  first 
demonstration  towards  the  accomplishment  of  making  Mr.  Win- 
terboltom  a  happy  man,  has  already  been  related. 

Now,  the  story  of  Adela  and  Frank  Stanly  was  on  this  wise — 
and  we  relate  it  here,  as  aiding  to  a  more  perfect  delineation  of 
this  interesting  young  lady,  in  whose  history  we  hope  our  readers 
are  sufficiently  enlisted  to  read  the  story  of  her  first  love;  for 
every  heart  has  its  first  love,  and  happy  are  those  whose  first 
love  is  the  love  of  a  whole  life! 

Frank  Stanly  was  distinguished  for  his  fine  form,  his  intelli 
gent  face,  and  graceful  manners  ;  he  was  at  this  time  just  twenty- 
two  years  of  age,  and  held  the  position  of  confidential  clerk  in 
the  house  of  Archibald  Strahan  &  Co.,  a  Scotch  house  of  importers 
in  Babylon  the  Less.  His  salary  was  a  very  liberal  one.  which 
he  devoted,  (all  beyond  his  personal  expenses,)  to  the  education 
and  support  of  two  younger  brothers  who  were  at  College.  His 
admirable  character  and  his  filial  affection  won  for  him  the  entire 
confidence  of  his  employers,  and  they  took  great  pleasure  in  bring 
ing  him  into  the  family  circles  of  their  friends.  Especially  was 


FRANK  STANLY.  331 

this  true  of  Mr.  Strahan,at  whose  hospitable  mansion  his  musical 
tastes  and  accomplishments,  for  he  played  admirably  on  the  flute, 
made  him  a  welcome  visitor.  Mr.  Strahan's  family  consisted  of 
his  wife,  two  daughters,  and  four  sons,  younger  than  the  daugh 
ters.  The  elder  of  these  girls,  Janet  Strahan,  was  possessed  of 
extreme  delicacy,  of  thought,  and  great  timidity  of  manner.  Her 
sister  Jane  was,  at  the  time  we  speak  of,  a  school  girl  of  fourteen. 

To  Janet,  Frank  Stanly  had  become  a  beau-ideal  of  excel 
lence  ;  the  consequence  of  hearing  her  father's  commendation  of 
his  character — an  idea,  which  was  readily  developed  by  her  fami 
liar  intercourse  with  him.  Her  admiration  was  changed  to  love 
unconsciously  to  herself.  The  father,  averse  to  society  which  led 
him  away  from  the  comforts  of  his  own  fireside,  and  yet  anxious 
that  his  wife  and  daughter  should  be  gratified,  intrusted  them  to 
Frank,  whose  happiness  it  was  to  accompany  them  to  the  theatre, 
the  concert,  and  all  parties  to  which  they  went.  To  Frank,  Janet 
was  a  being  of  another  sphere — he  never  dreamed  an  alliance 
with  one  so  far  above  him,  and  the  thought,  had  it  arisen,  would 
have  seemed  treasonable.  But  Janet  knew  of  no  such  difference 
in  their  condition.  Money  to  her  was  something  about  which 
she  knew  but  little.  Her  father's  purse  was  always  open  to  every 
demand,  but  such  was  the  care  taken  by  her  mother  of  her  chil 
dren's  wants,  that  a  few  dollars  was  all  the  spending  money  she 
ever  required. 

Frank  Stanly's  society  became  the  charm  of  her  life.  The 
music  he  admired  she  played,  and  the  books  he  recommended  she 
read,  and  so  sought  to  become  in  all  things  conformed  to  his  tastes, 
and  to  be  like  him,  who  was  to  her  the  perfection  of  mankind. 
All  went  on  happily  with  her,  till  Adela  Tripp,  to  use  her  mo 
ther's  phrase,  crossed  his  path;  and  Janet  then  discovered  the 
depths  of  her  love  at  the  moment  she  felt  it  must  be  hopeless. 
The  musical  skill  of  Adela  was  unrivaled,  and  Frank  at  first 
was  an  admirer  only  of  her  admirable  execution  on  the  piano. 
At  the  musical  soirees  given  by  Mrs.  Tripp,  Frank  was  invited, 
because  of  his  exquisite  accompaniment  with  the  flute,  which 
helped  to  show  oft  Adela's  performance,  and  Janet,  because  of 
her  parentage.  And  as  they  walked  homeward,  the  poor  girl 
was  made  miserable  by  the  admiration  she  heard  expressed  for 
Adela,  although  as  yet,  it  was  only  her  musical  taste  and  talent 
which  were  dwelt  upon. 

Adela  discovered  the  attachment  of  Janet,  and  it  gave  to 
Frank  a  new  value  and  importance.  She  found  it  in  her  heart 
to  give  her  eye  an  expression  of  softness,  as  she  looked  up  to 
Frank  to  turn  over  the  leaves  of  the  music  they  were  playing 
together,  which  was  exceedingly  fascinating,  but  Frank  was  too 


332  PETER  SCHLEMIHL. 

modest  to  see.  Still  the  look  came  back  to  him  as  he  fell  asleep 
on  his  pillow,  and  Adela  reappeared  in  his  dreams.  Waking,  he 
dwelt  upon  the  flattery  which  it  conveyed  :  "  what  was  he  ?  a  poor 
clerk  !"  and  so  he  fell  asleep  again,  to  dream  of  Adela  Tripp,  her 
sweet  voice,  her  soft  smiles  and  speaking  eyes. 

Now,  though  Adela  went  into  this,  merely  by  way  of  experi 
menting  on  her  powers  of  pleasing ;  neither  wishing  nor  intending 
more  than  a  mere  manifestation  of  her  artillery,  as  a  sort  of  target- 
practice,  by  poor  Janet,  who  sat  by,  a  silent  and  absorbed  spectator 
of  the  powers  of  Adela's  fascination,  every  new  demonstration 
was  watched  in  agony,  and  with  a  heart  sinking  in  despair ;  she 
lost  all  her  powers  to  sustain  any  share  in  the  society,  from  which 
she  could  not  withdraw  herself. 

Adela  Tripp, as  many  such  young  ladies  have  discovered  in  their 
sad  experience,  found  that  what  was  commenced  from  over  list- 
lessness  and  want  of  other  occupation,  became  at  last  the  pleasure 
of  her  existence.  She  saw  with  secret  satisfaction  the  struggles 
Frank  made  to  repress  his  love  for  her  society.  He  would  absent 
himself  for  weeks,  but  she  knew  how  to  recover  him  by  a  single 
appealing  look,  and  to  tie  him  to  her  side  against  all  the  strivings 
of  his  will  to  resist  the  Circean  cup  of  her  attractiveness,  never 
so  beautiful  as  when  bestowed  upon  him. 

Janet,  in  the  meanwhile,  became  more  and  more  silent  in  her 
intercourse  with  Frank ;  her  piano  was  rarely  opened  when  she 
could  avoid  it ;  and  she  made  a  pretence  of  a  cold  which  pre 
vented  her  from  singing.  A  hectic  flush  appeared  on  her  cheek, 
which  prevented  her  going  out  in  the  evening,  and  she  said,  too, 
"  she  loved  to  keep  her  father  company,"  and  this  was  a  reason  so 
gratifying  to  her  parents,  that  she  was  suffered  to  have  her  own 
way,  and  remain  at  home. 

Mrs.  Tripp,  who  had  looked  upon  the  growing  admiration  of 
Frank  Stanly,  and  the  play  of  Adela's  powers  of  pleasing  as  mere 
coquetry,  now  awoke  to  the  danger  likely  to  result  from  its  con 
tinuance.  She  found  Adela  absorbed  by  Frank  at  parties  where 
good  opportunities  were  worse  than  lost.  And  she  determined 
the  winter  about  to  open  should  not  be  lost,  as  the  last  had  been. 
This  brought  on  the  grand  demonstration  of  which  we  have  spoken. 
Adela  had  been  compelled  to  appear  wayward,  and  when  Frank, 
in  order  to  determine  the  condition  of  her  affections,  had  disclosed 
his  own,  Adela  relented,  and  once  more  both  were  happy  as  lovers 
are,  with  whom,  alas !  "  the  stream  of  true  love  never  runs  smooth." 
The  very  obstacles  made  their  meetings  the  more  fond  and  fre 
quent. 

Mrs.  Tripp  once  awake,  was  not  to   be  put   to  sleep.     She 


FRANK  STANLY.  333 

discovered  the  state  of  Adela's  heart,  and  urged  a  final  and  fixed 
resolve. 

With  great  agony  and  with  many  tears,  Adela  told  Frank, 
their  attachment  could  only  bring  upon  them  both  the  extremest 
misery.  She  was  unfitted  for  a  poor  man's  wife,  and  felt  herself 
unable  to  sustain  the  sacrifices  she  would  be  compelled  to  meet. 

This  was  all-sufficient  for  Frank.  His  generous  nature  could 
not  ask  Adela  to  make  a  sacrifice  for  him  against  the  convictions  of 
her  judgment,  nor  did  he  complain  because  her  love  was  not  equal 
to  the  sacrifice.  He  was  deeply  wounded,  but  he  uttered  no  re 
proaches,  and  received  with  tears  the  little  gifts  he  had  persuaded 
Adela  to  accept;  and  it  was  some  weeks  after  this  last  interview, 
that  the  conversation  between  Mrs.  Tripp  and  Adela  took  place. 
He  had  never  contemplated  renewing  the  subject,  but  Adela  had; 
and  she  knew  how  to  recall  him,  if  she  found  it  in  her  heart  to  do 
so — but  now  she  said — "I  will  relinquish  Frank  Stanly — for 
ever — poor  Frank !" 

The  distress  consequent  upon  the  vacillating  course  which  had 
been  pursued  by  Adela  in  the  mind  of  Frank  Stanly,  was  not  un 
heeded  by  Janet.  Her  generous  soul  was  now  overflowing  with 
tenderness  to  one  she  loved,  and  who  was  so  very  wretched.  Her 
quiet  attentions  were4 grateful  and  soothing.  No  word  was  spoken 
by  him,  no  allusion  was  made  by  her.  This  continued  until  the 
rmal  and  fixed  result  was  expressed  by  Adela,  which  left  Frank 
in  a  state  of  the  deepest  wretchedness. 

His  unhappiness  now  attracted  the  attention  of  Mr.  and  Mrs. 
Strahan,  who,  without  knowing  what  had  happened,  kindly  con 
trived  a  business  tour  for  Frank,  hoping  to  divert  his  mind.  Mr. 
Strahan  asked  him  frankly,  "  if  he  was  perplexed  for  want  of 
money ;  if  so,  his  purse  was  at  his  service." 

"Perhaps,  Frank,"  said  Mr.  Strahan,  with  great  kindness  of 
manner,  "  you  have  got  into  some  scrape  you  are  heartily  ashamed 
of?  If  so,  make  a  confidant  of  me,  and  I  will  help  you  out,  my  dear 
fellow.  I  have  gone  through  all  this  before,  when  sowing  my 
wild  oats,  and  know  what  it  is.  Now,  my  boy,  have  you  lost 
money  ? — and  how  much  do  you  need  to  clear  yourself?" 

Frank's  tears  told  his  deep  feeling,  but  with  a  most  melan 
choly  smile,  he  replied  to  his  most  excellent  and  amiable  employ 
er — "  Money,  dear  sir,  can't  help  me.  I  am  just  now  in  the  Slough 
of  Despond,  but  I  shall  after  a  while  get  out  on  the  right  side." 

"Cheer  up,  my  good  fellow,  and  dine  with  us  next  Sunday — 
go  to  church  with  my  wife,  and  see  what  a  sermon,  and  a  glass 
of  wine  after  dinner,  will  do  for  you."  So  saying,  the  good  man, 
with  all  the  sunshine  which  benevolence  sheds  on  the  heart,  took 
up  his  candle,  and  bid  him  good  night. 


334  PETER  SCHLEMIHL. 

Mrs.  Strahan,  who  was  present,  now  took  up  the  theme  relin 
quished  by  her  good  husband,  but  could  make  nothing  of  it;  and 
when  Frank  took  leave  of  her,  the  affectionate  and  excellent  lady 
fell  to  thinking. 

"If  it  is  not  money,"  thought  Mrs.  Strahan,  "it  must  be  love: 
and  if  love,  who  can  it  be  for  but  Janet  ?"  and  then  she  opened  her 
eyes,  and  though  it  was  full  bed-time,  she  still  sat  in  deep  medi 
tation.  "Frank  is  only  a  clerk — he  has  nothing,  and  everybody 
would  say  Janet  had  thrown  herself  away: — poor  fellow  !  I'm 
sorry  for  him."  Then  again  she  mused  awhile.  "  But  is  he  so 
poor?  are  his  talents  nothing — his  integrity,  his  noble  sacrifices 
for  his  brothers  ?  Are  these  nothing? — all  worthless,  and  of  no  ac 
count?  Whom  could  I  find,  if  I  were  to  search  the  city,  to  whom 
I  should  so  willingly  confide  the  happiness  of  Janet  ?  Her  sus 
ceptible,  sensitive  heart  needs  the  warm  affections  of  a  generous 
nature,  one  whose  refinement  of  feeling  will  never  grieve  her.  I 
must  think  of  this ;"  and  so  she  slept  upon  it.  And  when  Frank 
came  in  the  next  evening,  her  manner,  unconsciously  so  to  herself, 
was  more  motherly  and  kind  towards  him  than  ever. 

Frank  was  most  happy  to  leave  the  city.  He  spent  the  winter 
away,  and  with  the  happiest  results.  His  mind  had  time  to  re 
cover  its  elasticity,  and  to  see  the  folly  and  almost  wickedness  of 
persuading  a  girl  of  Adela  Tripp's  education  to  share  the  strug 
gles  which  awaited  him  in  life;  and  it  was  a  relief  to  him  to  hear, 
on  his  return,  that  Adela  was  in  full  tide  of  successful  experiment 
to  win  the  affections  of  Mr.  Winterbottorn. 

The  Strahans  welcomed  Frank  home  with  the  utmost  cordi 
ality,  and  the  good  mother,  whose  suspicions  had  been  awakened  as 
to  the  cause  of  his  depression  of  spirits,  was  on  the  alert  to  see  if 
her  guesses  were  true.  To  her  surprise,  she  could  not  discover 
any  embarrassment  in  him,  created  either  by  the  presence  or  ab 
sence  of  Janet,  and  as  for  her  sister,  he  played  with  her  with  an 
air  as  unconstrained  as  though  she  were  a  kitten. 

The  dear  lady  was  now  at  a  stand  still.  From  Frank  she 
looked  to  Janet.  She  saw  a  great  change  had  come  over  her,  and 
that  the  indications  she  had  expected  to  see  in  the  one  were  ap 
parent  in  the  other.  There  had  been  an  evident  improvement  in 
Janet's  health  since  Frank's  return — her  piano  was  re-opened — 
she  played,  when  alone,  the  new  music  Frank  had  brought  her. 
Their  voices  once  more  blended  sweetly  together  as  they  sung 
songs  which  had  been  all  but  forgotten. 

"  It  must  be,"  thought  Mrs.  Strahan,  "that  my  precious  child 
loves  Frank.  Alas!  poor  girl,  and  is  it  so  ?"  and  her  heart  sunk 
within  her:  the  case  wore  a  phase  of  extreme  painfulness.  The 
extreme  timidity  and  almost  morbid  sensibility  of  Janet  forbid  her 


FRANK  STANLY.  335 

mother  from  making  any  reference  of  this  condition  of  her  affec 
tions  even  to  her  husband,  till  she  had  settled  all  this  in  her  own. 
mind. 

Accident  discovered  to  Frank  the  interest  which  their  constant 
intercourse  had  created  in  the  heart  of  Janet  Strahan.  These 
things  do  reveal  themselves  in  the  glance  of  an  eye — the  changing 
color  of  the  cheek,  and  the  inflections  of  the  voice  ; — through  some 
one  of  these  avenues  of  the  heart,  Love  delights  to  manifest  his  pre 
sence,  and  no  care  can  guard  his  escape.  While  Frank's  own 
heart  had  been  pre-occupied,  these  passed  him  unnoticed ;  but 
now,  the  spell  was  broken,  and  he  was  once  more  at  liberty  to  use 
his  eyes,  and  to  look  from  a  point  of  observation  never  till  now 
attained. 

His  emotions,  as  he  became  more  and  more  fully  possessed  of 
the  state  of  Janet's  affections,  were  at  first  painful.  He  was  grieved 
to  be  loved  by  one  whose  wishes  (so  it  at  first  seemed),  never  could 
be  gratified.  That  this  lovely  girl's  history  was  like  his  own — 
the  stream  of  love  was  to  be  broken  into  bubbles,  to  live  but  a 
brief  moment,  and  to  die.  But  he  asked  himself,  "  Why  must  it  be 
so?"  and  then  he  recalled  his  love  for  Adela — his  own  dependence: 
but  as  weeks  elapsed,  the  aspects  changed.  Janet  appeared 
more  and  more  beautiful,  as  she  retreated  from  his  increased 
attentions,  and  sought  the  side  of  her  father  and  mother,  as  they 
passed  together  into  the  street  to  walk,  or  as  she  took  her  seat  at 
the  centre-table:  yet,  when  having  so  disposed  of  herself,  she 
evinced  no  unwillingness  to  converse  with  him.  It  was  only  at 
the  piano  they  were  near  each  other.  If  their  eyes  met,  hers 
fell;  if,  in  the  haste  of  turning  over  a  page  of  music,  their  hands 
chanced  to  meet,  she  withdrew  hers  as  though  a  bee  had  stung  it. 

And  now  Frank  began  more  and  more  to  feel  how  sad  it  was 
to  be  poor;  and  images  of  home,  in  which  Adela  was  forgotten, 
and  Janet  with  all  her  gracefulness  and  gentleness  assumed  her 
place,  now  visited  the  pillow  of  master  Frank  as  he  laid  himself 
down  to  sleep. 

How  long  matters  would  have  gone  on  at  this  rate,  no  one  can 
tell,  had  not  Mr.  Strahan,  who  was  engaged  reading  the  news 
paper,  seated  in  his  easy  chair,  chanced  to  look  over  the  top  of 
his  spectacles  one  evening,  and  witnessed  one  of  these  little  scenes 
at  the  piano.  Like  a  most  excellent  husband,  as  he  was,  his  first 
step  was  to  speak  with  his  wife.  She  became  all  at  once  surpris 
ingly  obtuse,  and  had  to  be  enlightened,  and  when  fairly  waked 
up,  she  looked  her  husband  in  the  face,  and  said: 

"  Where  will  you  get  a  better  son-in-law  for  Janet  than  Frank?" 

"  By  George,"  replied  the  husband,  "that's  true.  He  is  poor, 
but  I  will  make  him  our  junior  partner  on  the  1st  of  May  next." 


336  PETER  SCHLEMIHL. 

This  was  done  to  the  unspeakable  happiness  of  Frank.  His 
affairs  now  looked  bright,  and  his  spirits  rose,  and  he  asked  him 
self,  "  Who  will  love  me  so  well  as  Janet  ?  Where  shall  I  find  such 
parents?  Ah!  if  it  were  possible!  If  I  dared  to  ask  the  hand  of 
Janet!"  His  heart  sunk  as  he  proceeded  to  ask,  "Do  I  love  Janet 
as  Janet  deserves  to  be  loved,  and  must  be  loved,  to  be  happy  ? 
and,  can  she  trust  me  after  knowing  my  attachment  for  Adela 
Tripp?" 

Here  was  an  enigma,  but  love  solves  all  such  riddles.  It  is 
the  great  alembic  which  transmutes  earth  to  gold;  and  which,  even 
when  mixed  with  earth,  purifies  and  refines. 

These  misgivings  grew  weaker,  and  his  confidence  in  himself, 
and  his  hopes  in  Janet's  love,  grew  stronger.  He  felt  the  value  of 
one  so  good,  so  gentle,  and  devoted,  and  said  to  himself,  "I  shall 
love — I  do  love.'"  Having  thus  settled  this  great  question  in  his 
own  mind,  his  next  difficulty  was  to  make  his  wishes  known  to 
her  parents.  He  remembered  all  their  kindness,  and  the  frankness 
which  had  characterized  their  whole  course  towards  him — and  it 
was  only  with  their  consent  and  sanction  he  determined  to  proceed 
in  the  expressions  of  his  growing  attachment  to  their  best  beloved 
child.  This  was  due  to  them  and  to  himself. 

One  evening,  as  they  were  alone,  he  requested  them  to  give 
him  the  opportunity  of  conversing  with  them  in  the  private  room 
of  Mr.  Strahan,  which  they  at  once  granted,  and  having  taken 
their  seats  (a  moment  of  dreadful  expectancy  to  Frank),  he  ad 
dressed  them,  at  first,  with  great  embarrassment  of  language — 
spoke  of  their  uniform  friendship — the  great  and  distinguished 
favor  recently  conferred,  and  finally  his  desire  to  ask  one  still 
greater  and  higher  expression  of  their  confidence  and  love,  in  their 
permission  to  seek  the  hand  and  heart  of  Janet. 

Mr.  and  Mrs.  Strahan  heard  him  through  in  a  silence  which 
was  quite  alarming;  Mr.  Strahan  had  now  no  impulses,  but  left 
his  wife  to  reply.  She  said  in  a  kind  tone,  but  with  great  pre 
cision  of  expression :  "  If,  Frank,  you  are  sure  of  yourself — certain 
of  your  love  for  Janet,  you  have  our  sanction  and  our  best  wishes." 
Mr.  Strahan  simply  bowed  his  acquiescence,  and  Frank  found 
himself  (he  had  no  exact  recollection  how),  in  the  entry. 

On  entering  the  parlor,  Janet  and  her  brothers  were  seated  at 
the  centre-table,  in  the  greatest  glee  over  the  amusing  gossip  they 
had  found  in  the  rich  pages  of  Old  Knick,  just  received  by  them. 
Donald,  the  eldest,  was  the  reader,  and  explained  to  Frank  the 
anecdote  so  far  as  they  had  read  it — and  proceeded.  The  hits 
were  admirable — the  boys  were  delighted  and  boisterous  in  their 
mirth,  and  Janet  was  gay  and  happy,  but  Frank  was  as  grave  as 
any  mile-stone. 


FRANK  STANLY.  337 

"  Why,  Frank,  what  is  the  matter?"  said  Donald,  looking  up. 
"  What  has  happened  ?  Is  the  bank  broke — the  steamer  lost  ?  or 
what  is  it  that  has  closeted  you  with  father  and  mother ;  and  that 
you  can't  even  smile  at  the  clever  gossip  of  Old  Knick  ?" 

Frank  was  very  much  embarrassed — and  Donald  was  really 
in  earnest,  lest  some  dreadful  commercial  revulsion  had  reached 
even  his  father. 

"  No  !  Donald,"  replied  Frank,  "  we  were  never  more  success 
ful — no  mishap  has  happened  to  us  or  to  others  that  I  know  of." 

"  I'm  glad  of  it,"  said  Donald,  once  more  commencing  to  read 
aloud.  Janet,  whose  attention  was  thus  called  to  Frank,  looked 
at  him  with  an  earnest  look  of  inquiry,  and  such  was  the  expres 
sion  of  Master  Frank's  look,  that  her  eyes  fell,  and  her  face  was 
suffused  with  blushes. 

Happily  for  these  lovers,  the  cry  of  "  fire  !  fire  !"  was  heard  in 
the  street,  and  sent  off  the  boys  on  the  jump,  leaving  Frank  and 
Janet  alone.  Desperate  men  take  to  desperate  measures.  Frank 
had  no  wish  to  perpetuate  his  state  of  doubt  and  expectancy ; 
and  at  once  rose,  and,  seating  himself  beside  Janet,  took  her  hand. 
She  was  surprised,  but  certainly  never  guessed  what  was  next  to 
be  said  or  done ;  her  look  was  one  of  unconsciousness,  of  inno 
cence,  and  surprise.  But  when  Frank  made  his  declaration,  she 
became  extremely  nervous,  and  withdrawing  her  hand  and  hiding 
her  face,  burst  into  tears. 

It  was  not  a  very  promising  commencement  for  Mr.  Frank 
Stanly's  hopes,  but  when  one's  own  heart  turns  traitor,  there's 
little  chance  of  escape.  Frank's  language  was  fervent,  and  in  a 
tone  of  utmost  truthfulness,  and  she  was  too  happy  to  believe  him 
sincere. 

The  parents  having  given  Frank  ample  time,  as  Mr.  Strahan 
said  to  his  wife,  "  to  settle  the  affairs  of  a  nation,"  though  never 
did  time  seem  so  short  to  any  one  as  to  Frank,  now  entered  the 
parlor,  and  with  the  air  of  one  perfectly  happy,  Frank  rose  and 
led  Janet  to  her  parents,  saying,  "  Dear  Janet  has  consented  to  be 
come  my  wife — and  I  pledge  myself  to  love  her  with  all  the  full 
ness  of  my  soul — so  help  me  God  !"  The  old  gentleman  kissed 
his  daughter;  and  then  she  was  most  tenderly  embraced  by  her 
mother,  who  led  her  out  of  the  room,  and  said  to  Frank,  as  she 
took  her  daughter's  hand, 

"  My  dear  Frank !  I  know  you  to  be  a  man  of  truth — of  a 
tender  and  affectionate  heart;  and  I  am  well  assured  of  the  hap 
piness  of  my  dear  Janet." 

22 


338  PETER  SCHLEMIHL. 


CHAPTER  XV. 

Scenes  at  the  springs— A  party,  consisting  of  Col.  Worth  and  family,  Mrs. 
Smith,  Mr.  De  Lisle,  arid  Mr.  Winterbottom,made  up  for  the  springs — Mrs. 
Tripp's  plan  of  detaching  Mr.  Winterbottom — Her  success — Voyage  of 
Mrs.  Tripp  and  Adela  under  his  care — Night  scene  on  the  Hudson — Scenes 
at  the  Hotel — Flora  Goodenough  and  Jack  Musard — A  sermon  at  the 
springs — Adela's  infallible  cure  for  the  colic — Her  ride  with  Mr.  Winter- 
bottom — Miseries  of  being  rich  by  Mr.  W. — The  party  of  Col.  Worth  ar 
rives,  arid  Mr.  Winterbottom  absconds — Mrs.  Tripp's  plan  for  his  recovery. 

DOCTOR  HEREIN,  who  had  great  confidence  in  the  restorative 
influences  of  society,  recommended  to  Mr.  Smith  that  Mrs.  Smith 
should  spend  the  summer  months  at  the  springs.  This  sug 
gestion  was  made  when  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Worth  and  Grace,  Mr. 
De  Lisle,  and  Mr.  Winterbottom,  were  present,  during  an  evening 
call.  Mr.  Smith  expressed  his  earnest  desire  to  meet  the  sug 
gestions  of  the  doctor,  "and  unless,"  he  said,  "I  can  entrust  my 
wife  to  some  party  of  friends  going  to  the  springs,  I  must  take 
her  with  me  to  France,  where  I  am  compelled  to  go.  I  have 
already  proposed  to  do  so,  but  her  horror  of  the  ocean  seems 
insuperable." 

Col.  Worth  addressed  Mr.  Smith,  and  said,  "He  should  spend 
some  time  in  traveling,  and  would  be  most  happy  to  add  Mrs. 
Smith  to  their  party."  Mr.  De  Lisle  also  said,  "He,  too,  had 
determined  to  devote  the  summer  to  visiting  the  springs,  and  in 
travel,  and  offered  to  take  charge  of  Mrs.  Smith ;"  and  so  it  was 
agreed,  before  the  evening  closed,  that  Mr.  De  Lisle  should  assume 
the  especial  care  of  Mrs.  Smith,  and  Mr.  Winterbottom  begged 
to  be  permitted  to  make  one  of  the  party ;  so  the  party  was  made 
up,  to  the  great  delight  of  both  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Smith,  nor  were  Mr. 
De  Lisle  and  Grace  less  gratified  with  the  arrangement,  though 
their  mutual  satisfaction  was  more  quietly  expressed,  and  the. 
evening  passed  away  in  discussing  their  tour  of  travel. 

Mrs.  Tripp  soon  became  possessed  of  an  item  of  information  so 
important  to  be  known,  as  that  Mr.  Winterbottom  and  the  Worths 
and  Mrs.  Smith  were  all  to  spend  some  weeks  at  the  springs,  and 
she  heard,  too,  with  great  satisfaction,  that  "her  set,11  the  Van 
Dams  and  Van  Tromps,  all  designed  to  spend  the  hot  months 
there.  It  was  of  the  very  first  importance  to  carry  Adela  to  the 


ADELA  TRIPP.  339 

springs.  This  was  "a  fixed  fact"  in  her  mind,  but  a  contro 
verted  one  in  the  mind  of  her  husband.  He  was  astonished  at 
the  suggestion;  said  he  could  not,  and  would  not  afford  it.  Mrs. 
Tripp  had  heard  all  such  sayings  before.  She  listened  with  her 
accustomed  quietness  of  manner,  and  which  won  from  casual 
observers,  the  high  commendation  of  being  a  most  dutiful  wife. 
But  though  she  could  not  explain  her  reasons,  nor  discover  her 
plans,  she  knew  how  to  carry  them  into  the  widest  possible  exe 
cution. 

She  satisfied  her  husband  it  was  absolutely  necessary  for 
her  own  and  Adela's  health,  after  a  winter's  campaign  such  as 
they  had  gone  through,  to  recruit  at  the  springs;  that  it  would  be 
of  the  first  necessity  for  her  to  have  a  parlor  and  a  suite  of  rooms 
in  one  of  the  cottages;  that  Adela's  piano  must  be  boxed  and  sent 
up,  and  that  she  must  have  a  carte  blanche  as  to  all  her  expenses. 
Now  all  this  is  very  wonderful!  but  women,  some  women  are 
•thus  persuasive. 

While  Adela  was  making  all  her  arrangements  for  the  springs, 
selecting  the  most  beautiful  summer  dresses,  seeing  to  the  mak 
ing  up  of  an  elegant  riding  dress  and  cap,  her  whole  soul  filled 
with  these  most  transcendental  and  delightful  occupations,  with 
Mr.  Winterbottom,  to  be  sure,  in  the  distant  prospective,  (as  a  sort 
of  back-ground  of  her  picture,)  she  one  day  entered  the  parlor, 
threw  off  her  bonnet,  and  was  talking  of  the  "sweetest  thing  she 
ever  saw  in  her  life  at  ten  shillings  a  yard,  down  at  Hammers- 
lie's—"  when  her  eye  caught  one  of  those  magical  notes,  which 
have  little  slips  of  lutestring  ribbon  attached  to  the  wax. 

"Who  can  this  be?"  exclaimed  Adela,  opening  the  note. 
"Heavens!  mother,  Frank  Stanly  is  married!" 

"I'm  glad  of  it ;  who  has  he  found  to  comfort  him,  Adela?" 

Adela  threw  down  the  card,  bursting  into  tears,  and  hastened 
into  her  chamber,  and  Mrs.  Tripp,  with  all  quietness  of  manner 
and  perfect  unconcern,  went  to  the  table  and  picked  up  the  note. 

MR.  AND  MRS.  FRANK  STANLY, 

At  home  on  Thursday  next. 
La  Grange  Place,  No.  601. 

"No.  601  La  Grange  Place  !"  said  Mrs.  Tripp  to  herself. 
"Why  whom  can  he  have  married?  That's  a  very  fashionable 
street — very  good  neighborhood,  indeed.  He  may  thank  me  for 
his  good  fortune."  And  Mrs.  Tripp  really  felt  that  "  soul's  calm 
sunshine,  and  that  heartfelt  joy"  which  steals  into  the  soul  of  one 
who  has  conferred  some  signal  favor  on  a  fellow-creature.  She 
went  up  into  Adela's  room,  and  found  her  in  a  passion  of  tears. 

"  The  last  link  is  broken  !"  cried  Adela. 


340  PETER  SCHLEMIHL. 

"  Broken !  why,  child,  you  astonish  me.  I  thought  it  had  been 
broken  up  for  six  months  past.  Have  you  been  trifling  with  me 
all  this  while  ?" 

"How  trifling  with  you?"  asked  Adela. 

"  Have  you  had  any  kind  of  intercourse  with  Frank  Stanly 
since  November?" 

"  No,  mother,  I've  not  seen  him — not  heard  a  word  from  him. 
Oh,  mother,  if  you  had  ever  loved,  you  would  weep  with  me,  and 
not  reprove  me." 

"Weep  for  what?"  said  Mrs.  Tripp.  "That  he's  made  a 
happy  man  ?  that  I  have  saved  you  and  saved  him  from  a  long 
life  of  extreme  poverty  ?  I  may  weep,  if  I  find  my  daughter, 
Adela  Tripp,  after  all  that  has  taken  place,  made  miserable  by 
what  makes  Frank  Stanly  happy." 

"  My  dear  mother,"  said  Adela,  in  a  pleading  tone  of  distress, 
"let  me  weep  these  last  tears.  They  are  the  last,  and  I  must  be 
indulged." 

The  mother  now  went  down  stairs — the  dinner  bell  rang.  Mr. 
Tripp  asked  for  Adela,  and  his  wife,  with  all  quietness  of  tone, 
said,  "Poor  Adela  is  very  easily  overcome  by  any  exertion.  She 
has  been  out  in  the  sun  this  morning,  and  it  has  given  her  a  sick 
headache.  I  shall  be  glad  when  we  get  to  the  springs,  for  I'm 
sure  she  will  never  recover  her  buoyancy  of  spirits  till  we  do." 

And  when  Adela  appeared  at  the  breakfast  table  the  next 
morning,  Mr.  Tripp  felt  real  solicitude  for  the  aspect  of  lassitude 
and  distress  which  was  to  be  seen  in  the  air  and  countenance  of 
his  daughter. 

The  Thursday  came,  and  Mrs.  Tripp  and  Adela  made  the  wed 
ding  call.  The  rooms  presented  groups  of  happy  faces  when 
Adela  and  her  mother  entered.  An  air  of  joyousness  was  worn 
by  no  one  so  brightly  as  by  Adela.  She  kissed  the  bride,  pre 
sented  her  congratulations  to  Frank,  and  during  the  few  minutes 
she  remained,  was  eminently  felicitous  and  witty  in  all  she  said. 
Again  kissing  Janet,  and  smiling,  and  playfully  holding  out  her 
hand  to  Frank  as  he  handed  her  to  the  door,  she  left  the  house 
with  her  mother. 

Frank  looked  out  of  the  window  as  she  entered  the  carriage. 
He  was  for  an  instant  most  miserable.  "And  is  that  the  being," 
he  asked  himself,  "for  whom  I  would  have  sacrificed  life  itself? 
Thank  God  !  I  am  loved,  and  I  will  deserve  the  love  I  have  won." 
With  such  thoughts  he  returned  to  the  saloon  where  his  wife  re 
ceived  her  guests.  His  heart  was  lightened  of  a  heavy  load,  for 
he  had  dreaded  this  interview.  At  the  close  of  their  evening 
party,  as  his  wife  sat  beside  her  mother,  Frank  took  her  hand,  and 


PARTY  TO  THE   SPRINGS.  341 

expressed  his  gratification  that  she  had  so  well  sustained  the 
fatigue  of  this  severe  day  of  duty  to  the  demands  of  society. 

"Let  me  congratulate  you  too,  Frank,"  said  Mrs.  Strahan, 
"  that  you  too  have  met  its  trials  with  so  much  success."  There 
was  a  meaning  in  her  eye,  but  it  was  an  expression  of  compla 
cency;  for  she  had  watched  Frank  narrowly,  and  saw  the  sad 
cloud  which  had  invested  him  during  the  early  part  of  the  day, 
dispelled  with  the  call  of  Adela  Tripp.  "  I  have  had  this  day," 
continued  the  good  lady,  "new  confidence  inspired  in  me  in  the 
future  happiness  of  my  dear  child." 

"  She  shall  be  as  happy  as  my  love,  entire  and  supreme,  can 
make  her."  Janet  looked  up,  and  smiling,  offered  her  pretty  lips 
to  her  husband,  and,  with  an  earnestness  and  warmth  he  had 
never  before  been  possessed  of,  he  sealed  his  pledge  with  a  hus 
band's  kiss.  We  will  now  leave  this  new  married  pair  to  make 
the  voyage  of  life,  under  the  auspices  of  mutual  love,  respect,  and 
confidence. 

Mr.  Winterbottom  was  especially  delighted  with  the  plan  of 
their  summer  tour.  His  time  hung  heavily  on  his  hands,  as  it 
does  with  most  men  whose  only  business  is  to  sign  their  names 
to  stock-books  when  receiving  their  dividends,  and  whose  rents 
are  all  managed  by  agents.  And  when  Mrs.  Tripp  told  him,  as 
by  accident,  that  Adela  and  herself  had  been  talking  of  spending 
some  weeks  at  the  springs,  he  expressed  his  satisfaction,  and  told 
her  of  the  delightful  party  recently  made  up  at  Mrs.  Smith's, 
of  which  Mrs.  Tripp  apparently  heard  for  the  first  time.  And 
when  Adela  told  him  she  had  thought  of  sending  up  her  piano, 
so  that  she  might  not  lose  her  practice,  Mr.  Winterbottom  was 
earnest  in  the  expression  of  his  hopes  that  she  would  do  so. 

Mr.  Winterbottom  was  a  lover  of  music,  especially  the  songs  of 
Scotia,  and  Adela  had  taken  great  pains  to  acquire  the  accent 
requisite  to  sing  these  airs  in  perfection.  And  Mr.  Winterbottom 
had  unconsciously  assumed  the  interesting  position  of  a  teacher, 
as  well  as  listener,  to  this  attractive  young  lady ;  and  though 
she  hated  what  she  called  "  these  hurdy-gurdy  airs,"  yet,  when 
singing  to  Mr.  Winterbottom,  she  assumed  all  the  enthusiasm 
of  a  Scottish  girl,  singing  the  airs  of  her  native  hills  with  a  fa 
cility  and  beauty,  wood-wild,  to  the  great  admiration  of  her  au 
ditor. 

When  the  time  approached,  Mrs.  Tripp  was  exceedingly  anx 
ious,  as  Mr.  De  Lisle  was  to  take  charge  of  Mrs.  Smith,  that  Mr. 
Winterbottom  should  feel  himself  charged  with  Adela  and  herself. 
To  effect  this,  required  a  degree  of  management  which  was  hard 
to  attain. 

Mr.  Winterbottom  was  a  difficult  subject  even  for  Mrs.  Tripp 


342  PETER  SCHLEMIHL. 

to  prepare  for  deglutition,  unaided  and  alone.  She  dared  not  trust 
her  husband,  who,  though  he  had  consented  to  the  trip,  to  use 
her  own  phrase,  yet  "would  not  lift  his  finger"  to  aid  her  ulterior 
plans  and  purposes,  which  he,  indeed,  did  the  best  he  could  not 
to  see,  and  so  save  his  pride  by  seeming  perfectly  unconscious  of 
them. 

Mr.  Winterbottom  had  lived  his  life  long  in  the  fear  of  being 
carried  down  by  a  maelstrom,  and  becoming  engulfed  by  the 
arts  of  some  designing  woman.  Every  beautiful  girl  had  been  to 
him  a  Scylla,  and  every  attractive  widow  a  Charybdis,  to  whom 
he  gave  a  wide  berth.  The  courtesies  of  society  had  all  worn  the 
aspect  of  so  many  snares  set  for  his  unguarded  footsteps ;  and  thus 
his  years  had  passed,  and  though  frosted  by  time,  he  was  still 
in  vigorous  manhood,  and  as  yet  felt  no  symptoms  of  old  age. 
Sometimes,  too,  as  he  sat  alone  in  his  splendid  rooms,  the  thought 
would  steal  into  his  mind  that  he  might  have  made  a  mistake  in 
not  trusting  to  the  lottery  of  matrimony,  if,  indeed,  it  were  a  lot 
tery  ;  that  whatever  his  wife  might  have  chanced  to  have  been, 
he  should  have  possessed  the  unbought  caresses  of  his  children. 
He  was,  therefore,  just  at  this  time,  in  a  state  of  mind  peculiarly 
favorable  for  the  seductive  arts  of  a  heartless  woman — the  only 
women  who  will  condescend  to  beguile  such  men  into  the  toils  of 
marriage ;  a  fate  they  well  merit,  and  which  inevitably  awaits 
them,  sooner  or  later  in  life,  should  they  venture  to  change  the 
cheerlessness  of  solitude  in  hope  of  the  sunshine  of  domestic  hap 
piness.  And  though  they  may  happen  to  have  little  to  console 
them  by  the  change,  still  there  are  few  of  them  but  thank  their 
stars  that  by  any  means  they  have  been  induced  to  make  the 
change — for  the  worst  of  wives  is  far  better  than  none. 

Mrs.  Tripp,  though  much  perplexed,  still  believed  that  this  en 
listing  of  Mr.  Winterbottom  could  be  accomplished.  If  Mr.  Win 
terbottom  should  go  with  Col.  Worth's  party,  a  great  point  would 
be  lost.  No!  she  said  to  herself,  he  must  be  detached  from  them, 
if  but  for  a  day,  and  go  up  with  Adela  and  herself  alone.  As 
matters  were  arranged,  Mr.  Tripp  expected  and  purposed  to  go  to 
the  springs  with  them,  but  Mrs.  Tripp  had  no  such  design. 

Time  rolled  on.  Mr.  Smith  had  sent  one  of  his  clerks  to  secure 
a  cottage  attached  to  the  hotel,  and  had  engaged  one  for  Mr.  Tripp 
at  the  same  time,  next  to  the  one  to  be  occupied  by  the  Worth 
party.  Adela's  piano  had  been  boxed  and  forwarded  with  their 
extra  baggage,  and  the  day  but  one  on  which  Mrs.  Tripp  was  to 
leave  had  arrived.  Mrs.  Smith  and  the  Worths  and  Mr.  De 
Lisle  were  to  follow  the  next  week — but  a  week  might  accomplish 
much  if  they  had  Mr.  Winterbottom  all  to  themselves.  The  Van 
Dams  and  Van  Tromps  were  already  there,  and  it  would  wear  a 


MRS.  TRIPP'S  MANAGEMENT.  343 

most  delightful  aspect  to  reach  the  springs  under  the  care  of  Mr. 
Winterbottom. 

All  her  projects,  and  they  were  numerous,  were  rejected  as 
fast  as  created.  She  found  she  could  not  act  alone;  she  must 
have  the  aid  of  some  one,  and  whom  could  she  trust?  for  she  had 
felt  it  best  that  the  event,  when  brought  about,  should  seem  even 
to  Adela  the  result  of  chance,  inasmuch  as  it  would  leave  her  free 
and  unconstrained. 

After  much  deep  thought  of  the  plan,  and  the  accomplice,  she 
fixed  upon  Josephine,  who  had  a  common  interest  with  her  in 
making  this  journey  an  effective  one.  And  so  it  was  arranged 
that  Josephine  should  fall  sick  the  next  morning.  Accordingly 
Josephine  did  not  appear  at  the  breakfast-table,  and  Adela  being 
requested  to  call  her  sister,  returned  with  a  face  full  of  alarm,  and 
said  Josephine  was  very  sick. 

"Is  it  possible?"  exclaimed  Mrs.  Tripp ;" how  unfortunate 'if 
we  should  be  delayed  by  her  indisposition  !"  and  rose  immediately 
and  went  to  her  daughter's  chamber  with  an  anxious,  troubled  air. 
She  sent  word  to  her  husband,  "  to  call  on  his  way  down  town,  and 
send  up  Dr.  Frank  as  early  as  possible." 

Mr.  Tripp,  who  was  a  very  excellent,  amiable  man,  swallowed 
his  coffee  in  haste,  and  set  off  for  the  doctor. 

When  Mr.  Tripp  returned  to  dinner,  his  first  inquiry  was  as 
to  Josephine.  Mrs.  Tripp  said,  "  the  doctor  had  prescribed  a  febri 
fuge,  and  that  he  did  not  deem  much  the  matter  with  her,  and 
nothing  which  would  detain  them  in  their  departure ;  but  that 
Josephine  had  insisted  upon  not  being  left  alone  by  both  father 
and  mother,  and  that  they  should  be  compelled  to  go  without 
him."  A  decision  every  way  gratifying  to  Mr.  Tripp. 

"  Who  will  you  get  to  take  charge  of  us  ?"  asked  Mrs.  Tripp. 
"  Indeed  I  don't  know,"  replied  Mr.  Tripp.  "You  are  competent 
to  take  care  of  yourselves,  and  you  must  take  your  chances  for 
company." 

"  As  for  that  matter,"  replied  the  wife,  with  some  tinge  of 
sharpness,  "  I  can  do  very  well  without  the  protection  or  society 
of  any  one.  But  how  will  it  look  for  Adela  and  myself  to  make 
our  appearance  at  the  hotel  unattended  by  a  gentleman  ?  Who 
will  seat  us  at  the  dinner-table  on  the  day  of  our  arrival?  If  you 
are  so  reckless  of  all  these  little  matters,  I  am  not ;  and,  Mr.  Tripp, 
I  wish  you  would  call  on  Mr.  Winterbottom,  and  tell  him  how 
we  are  placed, — perhaps  he  would  hurry  his  departure." 

"  But  why  not  wait  a  day  or  two  ?"  said  Mr.  Tripp,  annoyed  at 
the  request. 

"  You  know  as  well  as  I  do,  Mr.  Tripp,"  said  his  dutiful  wife, 
with  a  tone  and  look,  the  power  of  which  she  knew  from  experi- 


344  PETER  SCHLEMIHL. 

ence  was  irresistible,  "  that  Adela  has  set  her  heart  upon  going 
to-morrow  afternoon.  If  you  won't  help  us,  I  believe  in  my  heart 
she  won't  go  at  all,  and  then  all  my  cost  and  trouble  goes  for  no 
thing." 

Mr.  Tripp  sat  silent,  with  compressed  lips,  and  the  conversa 
tion  during  the  dinner  that  day  was  carried  on  in  monosyllables. 
He  saw  a  storm  gathering  as  he  made  a  movement  to  go  into  the 
little  library  to  smoke  his  accustomed  cigar;  and  so,  to  save  him 
self  from  a  scene  which  he  knew  must  terminate  in  his  doing  what 
he  was  bid,  he  took  up  his  hat  and  cane,  and  walked  over  to  Mr. 
Winterbottom's,  whom  he  found  smoking  a  cigar,  in  his  splendid 
saloon,  with  a  bottle  of  wine  before  him,  in  all  the  luxury,  so  it 
seemed  to  Mr.  Tripp,  of  solitude. 

"  My  dear  Tripp,"  said  Mr.  Winterbottom,  rising  as  he  spoke, 
and  advancing  towards  his  visitor,  shaking  him  by  the  hand, 
"you  have  come  just  in  the  nick  of  time.  When  drinking  by 
one's  self,  the  bottle  comes  round  so  rapidly,  that  I  rejoice  when 
a  friend  comes  in  to  help  me.  Take  a  cigar;  those  are  Cordlls, 
sent  me  by  a  friend  just  from  the  province  of  Tobasco,  and  which 
rarely  find  their  way  out  of  the  country ;  try  one." 

Mr.  Tripp  loved  a  cigar  and  a  glass  of  good  wine,  and  found 
himself  very  comfortable,  as  he  sunk  into  one  of  those  "  sleepy 
hollows,"  which  the  refinements  of  modern  upholstery  have  intro 
duced  into  the  houses  of  the  rich.  And  as  they  smoked,  they 
talked  of  the  state  of  the  funds,  the  value  of  stocks,  and  all  such 
sleepy  topics,  drinking  all  the  while,  till  they  grew  mellow  and 
companionable.  Mr.  Tripp  rose  to  take  leave,  and  had  reached 
the  door  before  he  recollected  for  what  purpose  he  came.  Then 
he  hesitated,  and  with  some  awkwardness  of  manner,  told  Mr. 
Winterbottom  how  he  found  himself  circumstanced  at  home,  and 
that  he  had  called  to  make  the  inquiry,  if  perhaps  he  would  be 
willing  to  hurry  his  departure,  so  as  to  accompany  Mrs.  Tripp 
to-morrow  afternoon  to  the  springs. 

*'  Certainly,  my  dear  friend,"  said  Mr.  Winterbottom,  with  all 
pleasure.  "  Wait  a  moment,  and  I  will  go  over  with  you  and 
place  the  ladies  at  perfect  ease  on  this  score." 

So  saying,  he  left  word,  if  Mr.  De  Lisle  called,  to  say  he  had 
gone  over  to  Mr.  Tripp's,  and  taking  his  hat  and  cane,  accom 
panied  Mr.  Tripp  home.  The  ladies  received  him  with  their 
sweetest  smiles.  Coffee  was  served  up,  and  Mr.  Winterbottom 
was  just  in  a  state  to  be  pleased,  and  Miss  Adela  never  wore  a 
more  charming  aspect.  She  was  greatly  delighted  with  the  ar 
rangement,  and  sang  in  her  sweetest  tones.  Mr.  Winterbottom 
grew  young  again,  as  he  sang  with  her  the  old  Jacobite  songs  of 


NIGHT  SCENE  ON  THE  HUDSON.  345 

his  boyhood.  At  eleven  he  went  home,  thinking  "  what  a  plea 
sant  family  Tripp  has  got !" 

The  next  afternoon  saw  Mrs.  Tripp  and  Adela,  and  their 
friend  Winterbottom,  on  board  of  a  splendid  steamer,  on  their  way 
up  the  noble  Hudson.  Mrs.  Tripp  told  Adela  to  stand  aside 
during  the  daylight,  telling  her,  "  at  night  she  should  have  the 
deck  all  to  herself."  The  young  lady  duly  appreciated  the  sug 
gestion  of  her  mother,  and  assumed  an  air  of  retiring  modesty,  so 
that  Mr.  Winterbottom  found  it  difficult  to  draw  her  out.  She 
allowed  herself  to  be  delighted  with  all  the  beautiful  scenery  to 
which  he  called  her  especial  attention,  and  then  sunk  back  again 
upon  her  air  of  reserve,  with  a  grace  which,  while  it  was  effect 
ive,  was  well  calculated  to  lull  any  lurking  suspicions  in  the  mind 
of  one  so  extremely  sensitive  as  she  well  knew  Mr.  Winterbot 
tom  to  be. 

In  the  evening,  the  moon  was  bright,  and  the  air  warm  and 
soft — the  hour  was  late,  and  few  were  on  deck.  Mrs.  Tripp  left 
them,  as  she  said,  to  go  for  a  shawl  for  herself,  and  going  to  her 
state  room,  she  undressed  and  laid  down  to  sleep,  and  to  dream  of 
the  certainty  of  the  success  of  her  dear  Adela. 

Adela  now  assumed  the  place  assigned  her.  She  was  well 
read  in  Burns,  Byron  and  Moore,  and  had  prepared  herself  for 
the  scene  and  the  hour.  She  quoted  all  their  pretty  and  appro 
priate  verses  with  the  sweetest  facility,  and  leaning  on  the  arm  of 
Mr.  Winterbottom,  with  just  the  degree  of  pressure  which  made 
him  sensible  of  the  pleasure  of  sustaining  so  fair  a  form,  she  sung, 
solto-voce,  some  sweet  airs  in  which  moonlight,  and  waves, 
and  love  were  sweetly  interchanged.  Mr.  Winterbottom  drank 
in  all  the  delights  which  were  thus  presented  to  him. 

Adela  now  declared,  "  she  wondered  where  ma  could  be?"  and 
then  whispered,  "  I  must  now  retire  and  say  my  prayers,"  press 
ing  the  arm  of  Mr.  Winterbottom  with  tenderness  to  her  side,  as 
she  spoke.  He  would  willingly  have  detained  her,  but  she  said, 
"  it's  so  late  !  I  must  leave  you,"  and  so  he  led  her  to  the  door  of 
her  state  room,  where,  in  a  soft  tone,  she  said,  "  good-night !"  and 
was  about  to  open  the  door,  when  Mr.  Winterbottom  took  Adela's 
hand. 

It  certainly  is  one  of  the  most  awkward  positions  for  a  man  to 
place  himself  in,  and  I  warn  my  readers  against  taking  a  young 
girl's  hand  into  his  own,  if  he  does  not  know  what  to  do  with  it. 
That  was  just  the  fix  in  which  Mr.  Winterbottom  stood,  an  hour 
after  midnight,  in  a  saloon  alone  with  this  fascinating-  girl.  There 
it  lay,  soft  and  warm,  as  though  it  were  glued  to  his  own.  To 
kiss  it,  would  have  done  very  well,  but  not  all  it  seemed  to  de 
mand.  If  a  kiss  is  to  be  impressed,  there  are  the  lips,  and  it  is 


346  PETER  SCHLEMIHL. 

just  as  well,  and  far  better  holding  the  hand,  to  make  for  the  lips. 
In  a  state  of  such  dubiety,  Mr.  Winterbottom  held  the  soft  hand  of 
Adela,  who  evidently  stood  waiting  for  a  demonstration  of  some 
sort,  and  Mr.  Winterbottom  had  the  strongest  inclination  to  kiss 
her — there  was  no  one  near,  and  there  stood  the  lovely  girl,  with 
her  eyes  cast  down,  wearing  the  most  provoking  aspect  of  love 
liness  and  innocence ;  but  his  heart  misgave  him,  and  pressing 
her  hand,  he  bowed  and  retired,  not  even  saying  "good-night." 

Mrs.  Tripp  was  awake — and  wide  awake  ;  and  Adela  begged 
her  to  help  her  to  undress,  "  for  she  was  all  but  dead  for  want  of 
sleep ;"  but  her  mother  would  not  so  much  as  unhook  her  dress, 
till  she  made  her  go  over  all  the  scene  in  which  she  had  been  the 
actress,  and  finding  everything  to  encourage  and  commend,  she 
helped  Adela  to  disrobe,  and  contentedly  sunk  to  her  slumbers. 

As  for  Winterbottom,  the  last  impression  floating  on  his  mind 
was  that  Adela  was  a  pious,  lovely  girl,  who  said  her  prayers 
even  on  board  a  steamboat !  Now,  this  was  a  very  important 
fact,  as  he  thought,  to  have  discovered.  He  was  orthodox,  and 
had  some  misgivings  as  to  Adela's  religious  opinions,  though  she 
never  expressed  any,  but  then  she  went  with  her  parents  to  the 
Moriah  Church,  and  that  was  unfortunate. 

The  next  day,  the  party  arrived  at  dinner,  and  a  most  con 
spicuous  seat  opposite  the  Van  Dams  and  Van  Tromps  was  as 
signed  them.  Mrs.  Tripp  entered  the  hall  after  all  had  been 
seated,  with  an  air  of  complacency  she  did  the  best  she  could  to 
suppress ;  she  witnessed  the  lighting  up  of  a  look  of  surprise  on 
the  faces  of  her  friends  with  heartfelt  pleasure.  Adela  was  per 
fectly  quiet  and  serene — she  wore  an  air  of  modesty  which 
pleased  Mr.  Winterbottom,  who  took  his  seat  between  his  ladies. 
The  Babylonians  passed  their  congratulations  across  the  table, 
and  Mrs.  Tripp  undertook  to  sustain  the  arduous  task  of  playing 
the  agreeable  to  their  gentleman,  leaving  Adela  to  sustain  that  of 
a  modest  young  lady  who  found  herself  for  the  first  time  in  her 
life  at  the  springs;  a  little  piece  of  intelligence  Mrs.  Tripp  whis 
pered  to  Mr.  Winterbottom,  which,  at  the  same  time  it  explained 
the  air  of  diffidence  Adela  had  assumed,  helped  to  fix  his  atten 
tion  on  the  sweetness,  extreme  refinement,  and  delicacy  she  ex 
hibited  on  that  trying  occasion. 

"  On  entering  the  saloon  after  dinner,  Mrs.  Tripp  took  care  to 
relinquish  the  arm  of  Mr.  Winterbottom,  in  order  to  speak  with 
the  Van  Dam  clique,  who  were  stationed  in  the  upper  end  of  the 
room,  to  whom  she  renewed  her  expressions  of  pleasure,  and  told 
them  of  the  pleasantness  of  their  journey  to  the  springs. 

"  Adela,  left  to  herself,  as  became  her,  took  Mr.  Winterbottom's 
arm,  and  now  conversed  with  ease ;  concentrating  her  looks  and 


ADELA  TRIPP  AT  THE  SPRINGS.  347 

attention  upon  Mr.  Winter-bottom  in  a  way  eminently  flattering, 
and  especially  so  as  the  admiration  of  all  around  them  was  at 
tracted  to  himself  and  the  beautiful  girl  at  his  side.  Of  this  admi 
ration,  as  became  her,  she  was  all  unconscious,  looking  up  into 
his  face  with  a  most  bewitching  innocence  and  simplicity,  as  if 
absorbed  by  himself  and  indifferent  to  all  beside,  while  she  leaned 
on  his  arm  with  the  air  of  one  who  could  only  sustain  herself 
when  supported  by  him. 

Mr.  Winterbottom  evinced  his  pleasure  by  putting  forth  all  his 
colloquial  powers,  and  introduced  Adela  to  his  numerous  friends, 
who  advanced  from  all  quarters  of  the  room,  assembled  as  they 
were  from  every  city  of  the  Republic,  to  welcome  him. 

If  Adela  had  been  married  that  morning,  and  was  in  bridal 
array,  she  could  not  have  worn  a  sweeter  bridelike  look,  nor  acted 
better.  The  effect  was  admirable,  for  while  it  pleased  the  vanity 
of  Mr.  Winterbottom  to  witness  the  universal  admiration  Adela 
excited,  it  was  as  good  as  an  advertisement  of  an  understood  en 
gagement  existing  between  them ;  and  in  all  such  matters,  it  is 
important  to  give  public  opinion  a  right  direction. 

The  Van  Tromps  especially,  and  the  Babylonian  ladies  up 
town  generally,  saw  all  this  with  surprise  and  spleen. 

"  Did  you  ever  see  such  an  artful  minx  as  Adela  Tripp  ?"  said 
Katrine  ;  "  how  in  the  world  has  she  entrapped  Winterbottom  to 
parade  her  here !  and  wrhat  a  fool  he  is  making  of  himself.'' 

The  Van  Dams,  to  whom  this  was  addressed,  answered  by  a 
Jaugh.  At  this  moment  Adela  caught  their  eyes,  and  approached 
with  Mr.  Winterbottom. 

"  My  dearest  Adela,"  said  Katrine,  kissing  her, «« how  delight 
ed  we  all  are  to  meet  you  here — but  where,  Mr.  Winterbottom,  is 
De  Lisle  ?  I  thought  you  were  to  come  together." 

Adela  saved  Mr.  Winterbottom  from  discovering  how  he  had 
been  entrapped,  as  Katrine  would  have  reported  it,  by  saying, 
for  Mr.  Winterbottom,  that  "  the  Worths  and  Mrs.  Smith  had  been 
detained  unexpectedly,  and  Mr.  Winterbottom  had  come  on  in 
advance  with  them  to  see  that  all  preparation  had  been  made  for 
their  reception — especially  for  Mrs.  Smith." 

Mr.  Winterbottom  bowed — Katrine  was  certain  the  answer 
was  Adela's,  and  not  his,  and  that  an  attempt  had  been  made  to 
mystify  her ;  but  she  did  not  press  her  inquiries  further. 

The  room  was  not  filled,  though  a  large  number  were  present, 
and  as  they  stood  near  the  piano,  Katrine  insisted  on  Adela's 
playing,  which  she  firmly  but  quietly  refused.  The  Van  Dams 
united  with  Katrine,  and  Mr.  Winterbottom  with  the  Van  Dams, 
but  Adela  declined,  and  taking  Mr.  Winterbottom's  arm,  bowed 
and  passed  on,  and  walking  out  of  the  room  upon  the  verandah, 


348  PETER  SCHLEMIHL. 

Adela  with  a  look  of  reproach,  said,  "  O  !  Mr.  Winterbottom,  how 
could  you  ask  me  to  make  such  a  display  of  myself  before  this 
mixed  up  throng  ?  You  know  I  never  play,  but  for  those  whose 
kindness  enlists  all  their  sympathies  in  my  favor  ;  and  whom  I  live 
but  to  please." 

Mr.  Winterbottom  saw  the  delicacy  and  propriety  of  her  de 
clining,  and  expressed  his  sincere  regret  for  having  had  so  little 
regard  for  the  difficulty  of  the  task  his  desire  to  hear  her  had  at 
the  moment  suggested. 

"After  supper  in  our  own  parlor,"  said  Adela,  "you  shall  see 
I'm  not  capricious  ;" — a  promise  she  did  not  fail  to  redeem. 

Mr.  Winterbottom  found  the  time  passing  away  delightfully. 
Adela  showed  herself  good  at  everything;  she  bowled  success 
fully  at  nine  pins  ;  rose  early,  and  never  detained  him  a  moment 
in  his  morning  visits  to  the  fountain,  leaving  her  mother,  as  she 
said,  fast  asleep.  They  rode  together  every  day,  and  her  style  of 
riding  was  at  once  graceful  and  spirited ;  with  the  air  of  one  to 
whom  fatigue  was  unknown,  for  she  had  heard  Mr.  Winterbot 
tom  express  his  contempt  of  women  who  broke  down,  after  a 
morning  walk,  or  a  ride  at  noon. 

Everything  seemed  going  on  with  success,  and  her  eventual 
triumph  sure;  but  she  concealed  her  confidence  under  an  air  of 
growing  dependence  on  Mr.  Winterbottom.  Mrs.  Tripp,  in  the 
meantime,  was  not  idle;  she  well  knew  the  value  of  public  opin 
ion,  and  its  important  bearing  upon  such  men  as  Mr.  Winterbot 
tom,  and  she  determined  to  do  her  best  to  create  a  little  every  fit 
ting  opportunity. 

"  How  do  you  like  Adela's  dress  ?"  she  said  to  Mrs.  Van  Tromp, 
indicating,  by  her  eye,  the  spot  where  Adela  stood,  leaning  on  Mr. 
Winterbottom's  arm,  conversing  with  a  group  of  gentlemen  ga 
thered  around  her. 

"  It's  pretty  enough,"  was  the  cold  reply  of  the  lady. 

"  She  wore  it  last  evening,  and  Mr.  Winterbottom  was  so  much 
pleased  with  it,  that  he  insisted  on  seeing  her  in  it  to-day  at  din 
ner — " 

"  Indeed  !"  said  Mrs.  Van  Tromp,  opening  her  eyes,  "  and  does 
Mr.  Winterbottom  so  soon  prescribe  to  Miss  Adela  the  dresses  in 
which  she  is  to  appear?  Really,  you  take  me  by  surprise!  Is 
it  an  engagement  ?" 

"  My  dear  madam,  no,  indeed !"  said  Mrs.  Tripp,  with  an  air 
of  affected  surprise.  "  You  know  Mr.  Winterbottom  has  long 
since  relinquished  all  idea  of  marrying." 

"He  may  have  done  so,"  said  Mrs.  Van  Tromp ;  "but  I  should 
not  wonder  at  anything  Adela  and  you  might  put  in  his  head." 

Mrs.  Tripp  gave  a  gay  laugh,  and  tapping  her  friend  with  her 


FLORA  GOODENOTJGH.  349 

fan,  said — "Oh!  how  can  you  be  so  dreadfully  severe?"  and 
passed  on  to  another  group,  and  though  Mrs.  Tripp  did  not  stop 
to  listen  to  the  many  kind  things  Mrs.  Van  Tromp  found  in  her 
heart  to  say  to  her,  Katrine  was  at  hand,  upon  whom  she  ex 
pended  all  the  amiable  expressions  of  her  contempt  at  the  credulity 
of  one  who  had  been  proof  against  the  charms  of  her  own  elabo 
rately  and  most  expensively  dressed  daughters. 

Katrine  was  a  patient  listener,  and  entered  heartily  into  all  her 
mother's  feelings,  so  far  as  envy  was  concerned,  and  would  doubt 
less  have  made  some  valuable  contributions  to  the  subject  of  her 
remarks  ;  but  her  attention  was  at  the  instant  arrested,  by  seeing 
Jack  Musard  enter  the  saloon,  leading  in  a  beautiful  girl,  whom 
she  knew  to  be  Miss  Flora  Goodenough,  the  daughter  of  a  rich 
pastry  cook,  of  whom  she  had  heard  a  rumor  that  Jack,  the  hand 
somest  man,  and  the  best  waltzer  in  Babylon — the  man  whom  she 
had  designed  herself  to  make  happy  for  life,  and  upon  whom  she 
had  already  bestowed  no  little  pains  to  please,  and  of  which  he 
could  not  have  been  altogether  unconscious, — had  attracted,  and 
was  about  to  marry. 

To  be  surpassed  in  the  admiration  of  a  man  of  Jack  Musard's 
fine  appearance,  by  the  daughter  of  a  maker  of  pies,  was  any 
thing  but  gratifying.  As  Jack  was  poor,  and  had  just  commenced 
his  professional  career,  Katrine  had  counted  largely  on  the  advan 
tages  an  alliance  with  herself  would  have  given  him,  in  climbing 
the  steep  ascents  of  society  and  fortune ;  and  though  the  rumor 
had  been  rife  for  a  week  or  so  before  she  had  left  the  city,  concern 
ing  Jack  and  Flora  Goodenough,  she  never  could  believe  any  at 
tentions  he  may  have  paid  the  lady,  extended  beyond  a  little  harm 
less  and  unmeaning  gallantry. 

But  now  she  found  herself  a  witness  of  what  she  was  pleased 
to  say  to  herself,  was  a  most  wanton  and  unprovoked  insult.  He 
must  have  known  she  was  at  the  springs,  and  if  he  was  pleased 
to  ally  himself  to  one  so  far  beneath  herself,  he  had  no  right  to 
make  her  a  spectator  of  his  humiliation,  and  her  own  defeat.  She 
would  resent  it  as  a  personal  insult. 

While  thus  cogitating  her  wrongs  and  her  revenge,  Jack  and 
this  lovely  girl  passed  the  spot  where  she  was  standing,  as  they 
followed  the  crowd  of  guests,  who  were  promenading  in  the  sa 
loon,  as  they  are  accustomed  to  do  after  dinner.  And  in  passing, 
Jack  bowed  politely  to  Katrine,  who  "  cut  him  dead ;"  but  he  sur 
vived  with  a  fortitude  and  calmness  almost  miraculous.  His  coun 
tenance  exhibited  no  change,  and  the  sweet  girl  had  no  reason  to 
guess  she  was  passing  an  ambush,  in  which  lay  concealed  a  tongue 
which  would  wound,  and  heart  that  could  have  killed. 

As  they  walked  on,  Katrine  looked  about,  to  see  whom  she 


350  PETER  SCHLEMIHL. 

could  enlist  in  the  crusade  she  was  determined  to  commence, 
when  Mrs.  Tripp  came  round  in  the  circle,  walking  in  the  rear 
of  Adela  and  Mr.  Winterbottom,  curtseying,  and  smiling,  and 
speaking  to  all  she  knew,  so  that  none  in  all  the  room  with  whom 
she  was  acquainted,  should  be  unadvised  of  the  presence  of  her 
daughter  or  herself.  Should  there  be  any  anxious  mothers  among 
our  readers,  whose  daughters  are  hard  to  dispose  of,  we  commend 
Mrs.  Tripp's  method  to  their  special  attention. 

Katrine  beckoned  her  to  her  side,  and  assuming  an  air  of  ex 
treme  concern,  told  her,  as  a  great  secret,  and  for  her  especial  ad 
vantage,  what  she  had  just  observed,  and  which  shocked  her  be 
yond  all  measure  to  see ;  the  dreadful  and  bare-faced  depravity 
exhibited  by  Jack  Musard. 

"  In  Heaven's  name,  what  is  it?"  exclaimed  Mrs.  Tripp. 

"  Wait  a  moment,  and  I  will  show.  They  are  coming  this 
way.  There,  you  see  him  walking  next  to  Mr.  Winterbottom 
and  Adela." 

Mrs.  Tripp  looked  with  all  the  eyes  in  her  head.  The  young 
lady  was  graceful  in  her  carriage,  beautiful  in  her  face,  and  the 
only  thing  Mrs.  Tripp  could  discover,  was  a  little  too  much  elabo 
ration  of  costume.  She  was  finely,  rather  too  richly  dressed. 

"  Who  is  she?"  asked  Mrs.  Tripp,  in  an  anxious  tone. 

Katrine  waited  till  they  had  passed,  before  she  whispered  in 
the  ear  of  the  petrified  Mrs.  Tripp— 

"  She's  no  better  than  she  should  be — the  daughter  of  a  pastry 
cook,  whom  Jack  Musard  has  just  brought  out." 

The  horror  which  Mrs.  Tripp  expressed,  was  every  way  grati 
fying, — to  see  such  a  girl  walking  in  the  same  room,  breathing  the 
same  air,  and  next  to  her  spotless  Adela!  Her  indignation  had 
no  words  for  expression.  Katrine  carefully  wound  her  up,  and 
then  set  her  agoing. 

Mrs.  Tripp,  by  a  happy  accident,  saw  Captain  Townly  standing 
alone.  He  was  a  friend  of  Mr.  Winterbottom's,  and  had  been 
formally  introduced  to  her  on  the  day  of  their  arrival,  and  had 
called  to  see  her  at  her  rooms.  Mr.  Winterbottom  and  the  captain 
had  been  schoolfellows — and  had  voyaged  together,  and  were  the 
best  of  friends.  It  was  a  matter  of  some  moment  to  win  him  over 
to  her  side. 

Mrs.  Tripp  lost  no  time  in  speaking  to  the  captain.  After  a 
short  conversation,  conducted  in  her  most  agreeable  manner,  Jack 
Musard  and  his  mistress,  as  she  was  believed  to  be  by  Mrs.  Tripp, 
made  their  appearance  again  in  the  wake  of  her  dear  Adela  and 
Mr.  Winterbottom.  And  Mrs.  Tripp  thought  it  would  tell  well 
upon  the  captain  to  unbottle  a  little  of  her  virtuous  indignation  at 
the  sight.  She  did  so; — the  captain  looked  his  alarm  and  surprise; 


MRS.  TRIPP  AND  CAPT.  TOWNLY.  351 

—he  asked  from  whom  she  had  received  her  information,  and 
to  whom  she  had  communicated  it.  Mrs.  Tripp,  with  some  sur 
prise  at  the  minuteness  of  these  inquiries,  replied  with  all  truth 
fulness. 

The  captain  led  her  through  one  of  the  windows  upon  the 
verandah.  So  soon  as  they  were  alone,  he  addressed  her  with  a 
tone  of  intense  severity,  and  a  fierceness  of  look,  which  frightened 
poor  Mrs.  Tripp  before  he  had  uttered  a  word. 

"  Madam,"  said  the  captain,  "  I  have  been  a  witness  of  all  the 
arts  which  your  precious  daughter  and  yourself  are  playing  off 
on  my  friend  Winterbottom — and  I  have  been  willing,  if  it  pleased 
you  and  him,  that  he  should  make  a  fool  of  himself,  by  being 
'trotted  out'  by  your  daughter, and  come  at  last  gently  and  grace 
fully  into  your  toils.  But  when  your  d — d  arts  reach  my  niece, 
you  must  expect  me  to  carry  the  war  into  Africa,  and  I  will  soon 
show  you  how  effectively  I  will  do  so." 
The  captain  was  in  a  rage. 

Mrs.  Tripp  was  instantly  aware  of  her  danger.  She  truly  had 
"  waked  up  the  wrong  passenger;"  and  all  her  thunder  against 
the  vices  of  the  times  stopped  in  mid  volley.  The  captain  was 
turning  to  leave  her,  when  she  held  him  by  the  arm,  and  entreated 
him  "  to  stop  !  to  listen !  to  believe  she  had  been  misled — that 
nothing  could  give  her  so  much  pain  as  to  wound  a  lovely,  grace 
ful,  beautiful  girl ;"  and  she  went  on  at  a  rapid  rate,  denouncing 
Katrine  Van  Tromp  as  a  most  base,  malicious  and  wicked  calum 
niator,  and  mixing  up  admiration  for  Flora's  beauty  with  her 
hatred  of  Katrine,  she  soothed  the  captain  to  be  in  some  degree 
pacified  towards  herself. 

"  I  am  content,  Mrs.  Tripp,  to  let  you  and  yours  alone,  on  one 
condition,"  said  the  captain. 

«*  Name  it,  dear  Captain  Townly.  There's  nothing.  I  will  not 
do  to  make  all  and  every  possible  reparation." 

"  To  be  candid  with  you,  madam,  I  don't  believe  you,  when  you 
tell  me  /  am  the  only  person  you  have  addressed  on  this  subject." 
"Upon  my  soul,  captain,"  said  Mrs.  Tripp,  with  all  possible 
earnestness,  "you  are.     Indeed!  indeed  you  are!" 

"I  hope  it  is  so — but  I  doubt  it,"  he  replied  sternly  as  ever. 
"  I  will  take  my  revenge  on  you,  madam,  and  soon  blow  up  all 
your  plans  of  plundering  my  old  friend  Winterbottom.  By 
George  !  how  the  dollars  of  his  money-chest  would  jingle  when 
once  your  fine  fashionable  daughter  has  opened  the  lid,  grabbing 
the  whole,  while  claiming  her  thirds." 

The  captain  gave  a  laugh  of  derision,  which  extended  into  one 
of  good  humor,  at  the  picture  he  had  thus  sketched.  Mrs.  Tripp 
could  have  cried,  but  that  would  be  getting  up  a  scene,  which 


352  PETER  SCHLEMIHL. 

might  have  its  undesired  spectators.  She  restrained  her  emotions, 
and  insisted  on  leading  the  captain  to  her  parlor,  where  she  wept 
freely,  and  begged  him  not  to  punish  her  daughter  for  her  indis 
cretion.  She  now  took  the  cause  of  self-condemnation,  as  most 
likely  to  affect  a  generous  nature,  and  the  captain,  whom  entrea 
ties  could  not  move,  was  softened  by  her  tears. 

"  Dear  Captain  Townly,  you  said  there  was  one  condition  on 
which  my  folly  and  wickedness  could  be  forgiven — prescribe  the 
condition  ;  I  am  ready  to  do  everything  and  anything  to  show  you 
the  sincerity  of  my  sorrow,  and  my  earnest  desire  to  do  justice  to 
your  niece." 

"  Well,  madam,"  said  the  captain,  after  thinking  awhile,  "  I 
will  bury  the  hatchet  on  these  conditions.  To-morrow,  after 
dinner,  I  shall  present  to  you  my  niece,  and  you  must  act  as  her 
chaperon  for  an  hour  in  the  drawing-room,  and  whenever  she  ap 
pears,  you  must  pay  to  her  marked  attentions.  Do  you  under 
stand  me,  madam?  And  Adela  must  unite  with  you  in  these 
attentions  to  my  niece,  so  far  as  to  be  seen  speaking  with  her." 

"  Perfectly,  captain ;  and  I  will  truly  and  fully  comply ;  but 
may  I  ask,  why  is  Adela  included?" 

"  Do  you  think,  madam,"  said  the  captain,  with  a  tone  expres 
sive  of  the  utmost  contempt,  "  I  have  any  wish  rny  niece  shall  be 
known  to  you  or  your  daughter?  Not  at  all,  madam,  but  as  you 
have  mixed  yourself  up  with  her  reputation,  you  shall  do  what  I 
deem  best  in  refuting  your  own  slanders  in  the  presence  of  the 
residents  here.  Are  you  content?" 

"  I  am  content,"  replied  Mrs.  Tripp,  in  a  tone  of  unaffected 
humility.  The  captain  bowed  himself  out  of  the  room,  saying, 
"Good-day,  madam !  We  will  meet  again  in  the  saloon." 

Now,  though  Mrs.  Tripp  had  a  thousand  thoughts  chasing 
through  her  mind,  most  mortifying  and  painful,  yet  there  was, 
like  the  box  of  Pandora,  hope  at  the  bottom.  The  interesting 
picture  of  Adela,  with  her  elbows  hid  in  dollars,  dwelt  upon  her 
mind,  and  she  dried  up  her  tears  when  she  thought  of  it,  but  still 
she  had  her  misgivings,  lest,  after  all,  the  captain  should  first 
humiliate  her  and  then  break  his  pledge.  If  he  did,  all  the  beau 
tiful  visions  of  hope  would  die  down  to  sheer  despair.  Yet  what 
was  to  be  done?  Conceal  in  her  own  bosom  all  that  had  trans 
pired  !  She  determined  to  do  so,  and  to  nurse  her  wrath  for  Katrine 
Van  Tromp;  and  promised  herself  it  should  be  piping-hot,  when 
the  time  for  its  administration  should  come.  Adela  must  be  hood 
winked;  that  she  could  readily  accomplish.  The  sneers  of  the 
Van  Tromps,  and  the  Van  Dams  and  their  set,  she  must  submit 
to.  Anything  but  a  rupture  with  Townly,  and  the  destruction  of 
her  plans.  "  Success,"  she  said  to  herself,  "  will  repay  all."  Yes, 


ADELA  TRIPP'S  CURE  FOR  THE  COLIC.  353 

Adela  should  make  a  strict  inquest  of  those  "thirds"  of  which 
Captain  Townly  spoke.  And  so  Mrs.  Tripp  bathed  her  eyes  in 
some  diluted  Cologne  to  take  out  the  inflammation,  meaning  to  re 
turn  to  the  saloon,  when  Adela  came  in  hurriedly,  and  addressed 
her  in  a  tone  of  reproach. 

"  What  has  become  of  you,  mother  ?  I  have  been  wearied  to 
death  with  all  I  have  had  to  go  through  this  day;  and  now 
have  been  walking  for  two  whole  hours  with  Mr.  Winterbottom, 
and  am  all  ready  to  sink  into  the  floor.  Up  at  fi  ve  in  the  morning ; 
walking  about  the  spring  till  seven  ;  riding  twenty  miles  out,  and 
back  at  noon;  and  now  two  mortal  hours  in  the  saloon ;  if  matters 
don't  hasten  to  a  conclusion  soon,  I'm  killed  up,  and  I  can't  and 
won't  endure  such  a  severe  course  of  training,  mother;  and  you 
know  I  asked  you  to  take  Mr.  Winterbottom  off  my  hands  after 
dinner,  that  I  might  get  some  sleep" — and  giving  a  heavy  sigh, 
she  threw  herself  at  full  length  on  the  sofa. 

Her  mother  exclaimed — "Adela  Tripp,  what  are  you  doing? 
laying  down  in  that  costly  new  dress!" 

"  Help  me,  then,  to  get  rid  of  it !"  cried  Adela,  exhausted  of  her 
patience  and  temper  and  strength  all  at  once. 

Mrs.  Tripp,  acting  as  maid,  helped  Adela  to  shed  her  dress,  and 
unlaced  her  stays,  when  she  threw  herself  on  the  bed,  and  in  a 
moment  was  fast  asleep. 

Mrs.  Tripp  wondered  at  her  facility  at  sleeping.  "Ah!" 
thought  she,  "  if  she  knew  the  anxieties  of  a  mother's  heart,  she 
would  not  find  it  so  easy  thus  to  go  from  the  saloon  to  the  sleep  of 
childhood." 

Mrs.  Tripp,  doubtless,  did  believe  herself  to  be  a  pattern  wo 
man.  She  set  up  for  one,  and  certainly  is  not  the  first  person 
who  has  deceived  herself. 

While  Adela  slept,  Mrs.  Tripp  made  ready  to  receive  Mr.  Win 
terbottom,  and  whoever  else  might  chance  to  call  in  at  her  parlor 
during  the  evening.  Mr.  Winterbottom,  from  not  knowing  what 
to  do  with  himself,  was  sure  to  come,  and  as  for  all  the  rest,  it 
would  have  pleased  her  if  they  could  have  suited  themselves  else 
where.  She  was  not  therefore  surprised  to  see  Mr.  Winterbottom 
come  in  about  eight  o'clock.  Mrs.  Tripp  did  the  best  she  could 
to  supply  the  place  of  Adela.  The  provoking  girl  slept  on,  reck 
less  of  all  the  precious  time  she  was  losing,  and  her  mother  was 
compelled  to  apologize  for  her  absence. 

"  Adela  has  gone  in  to  see  a  lady  who  has  been  seized  with  a 
severe  colic,  and  Adela,  dear  girl,  has  been  heating  some  brandy, 
and  has  just  gone  in  with  it  to  see  if  some  such  means  might  not 
help  her." 

"  Brandy's  excellent !"  cried  Mr.  W^interbottom,  "  and  hot 
23 


354  PETER  SCHLEMIHL. 

brandy  the  best  thing  in  the  world.  It  don't  matter  how  it  is  ap 
plied,  inside  or  out,  in  such  a  case.  Really,  Adela,  clever  as  she 
is,  is  more  clever  than  I  had  supposed." 

"  Ah  !  Mr.  Winterbotlom,"  said  Mrs.  Tripp,  in  a  sort  of  rapture, 
"  if  you  only  knew  her !  but  she's  a  timid  child,  and  needs  some 
one  always  at  hand  upon  whom  she  can  lean;  her  tenderness 
will,  I  fear,  cause  her  a  great  deal  of  sorrow.  This  world  is  not  a 
place  for  mimosas,  and  I  tell  Adela  so ;  but  she  says  she  can't 
help  it ;  if  she  suffers,  she  must  suffer.  Her  nature  is  to  feel 
deeply,  and  to  love  fondly,  and  she  can't  help  it — she  must  do  so." 

"  She's  a  sweet  good  girl,"  replied  Mr.  Winterbottom,  with  an 
emphasis,  which  sounded  most  musical  to  the  ear  of  dear  Mrs. 
Tripp. 

Before  Mrs.  Tripp  could  gain  a  moment's  time,  so  intensely  in 
terested  had  she  become  in  this  conversation,  which  continued  for 
some  time,  and  so  absorbed  had  been  the  attention  of  Mr.  Winter- 
bottom,  that  she  had  no  time  to  go  into  Adela's  room,  and  tell  her 
about  the  sick  lady  with  the  colic  and  the  hot  brandy  applications, 
when  Adela  appeared  in  the  room. 

Mr.  Winterbottom  rose  with  kindness,  and  taking  her  hand,  with 
great  cordiality  of  manner,  asked — "  How  does  the  hot  brandy  suit 
the  case?  have  you  applied  it  inwardly  or  outwardly?"  smiling  as 
he  put  the  question  to  the  astonished  girl. 

Adela's  confusion  was  real  and  very  pretty.  She  looked  in 
quiringly  at  her  mother,  and  her  dear  mother  was  at  her  hand. 

"  My  dear  Adela,  I've  been  telling  Mr.  Winterbottom  of  your 
visit  to  our  sick  neighbor,  who  has  been  taken  with  a  colic  after 
dinner,  and  how  you  warmed  some  hot  brandy  and  carried  it  to 
her,  hoping  it  might  relieve  her.  And  Mr.  Winterbottom  is  de 
lighted,  and  says  it  is  the  best  of  all  remedies." 

"  Upon  my  soul  I  do,  Miss  Adela,"  said  Mr.  Winterbottom 
heartily,  "  for  I've  been  troubled  with  colic,  and  I  never  found  it 
to  fail.  How  came  you  to  think  of  it?" 

Adela  looked  down  with  a  most  bashful  air,  as  one  unexpectedly 
discovered  in  an  act  of  benevolence,  and  who  blushed  to  hear  it 
praised.  "When  I  was  a  school  girl,  I  visited  an  old  lady  who 
was  very  sick,  and  she  begged  me  to  heat  some  brandy,  and  also 
flannels,  and  apply  them,  dipped  in  the  brandy,  hot  to  the  stomach, 
and  which  happily  gave  her  ease  after  a  short  time ;  and  so  it 
occurred  to  me  it  might  be  useful  in  this  lady's  attack."  And 
looking  to  her  mother,  she  continued:  "she  was  greatly  obliged 
to  you,  mother,  for  the  heated  brandy,  and  I  doubt  not  to-morrow, 
she  will  be  perfectly  well  again."  So  having  perpetrated  all  these 
lies  with  an  air  of  the  utmost  amiability,  she  took  her  seat  on  the 
sofa  beside  Mr.  Winterbottom,  who  gazed  upon  her  with  increas- 


SERMON  AT  THE  SPRINGS.  355 

ing  admiration,  and  their  stream  of  conversation  flowed  on  as  free 
and  as  full,  as  if  they  had  not  for  the  last  five  days  been  almost 
constantly  in  each  other's  society.  Mr.  Winterbottom's  utmost 
wishes  were  gratified  with  Scotch  songs,  and  he  listened  with  plea 
sure  to  a  few  operatic  gems  which  Adela  played  to  give  variety  to 
the  music.  As  he  rose  at  a  late  hour  to  go,  he  invited  them  to 
attend  church  the  next  day,  and  asked  "where  shall  we  go?" 
Neither  of  the  ladies  had  any  choice  at  first,  but  Adela  thought 
she  should  like  to  go  to  the  Presbyterian  Church,  which,  as  it  was 
his  own,  \vas  certainly  every  way  pleasing  to  him. 

When  Mr.  Winterbottom's  step  had  ceased  to  be  heard,  Mrs. 
Tripp  embraced  Adela,  and  was  for  the  instant  really  mirthful. 

"My  dear  Adela,  you  ought  to  have  been  an  actress."  Adela 
was  not  so  well  pleased  as  her  mother,  and  replied, 

"I  beg  you  will  not  draw  upon  my  powers  of  personating  a  cha 
racter  on  the  instant,  and  without  so  much  as  a  clue  to  the  part  to 
be  performed." 

"Clue,  child!  and  did  I  not  tell  you  the  whole  story?"  replied 
Mrs.  Tripp. 

But  Adela  insisted  it  was  exceedingly  hazardous,  and  not  to  be 
repeated. 

It  was  a  Sabbath,  indeed,  to  Mrs.  Tripp;  for  the  usual  meeting 
of  the  guests  was  omitted,  and  she  had  one  day  of  grace.  On 
their  way  to  church,  they  met  Mrs.  Van  Dam  and  Mrs.  Van 
Tromp,  and  daughters,  all  so  prettily  dressed,  holding  in  a  most 
conspicuous  mariner,  their  velvet-covered  and  golden-clasped 
prayer-books;  gayly  conversing  with  the  gentlemen  in  white  vests 
and  gloves,  who  accompanied  them;  and  though  it  was  Sunday, 
Mrs.  Tripp  could  have  looked  daggers-drawn  at  Katrine  Van 
Tromp — but  she  didn't,  for  she  had  settled  it  in  her  mind  it 
would  be  very  unwise  to  do  so;  so,  bowing  very  graciously,  she 
let  her  pass,  though  Katrine's  eye  said  as  plainly  as  words  could 
have  spoken  it,  "How  well  you  manage  matters." 

At  church  it  was  truly  edifying  to  see  how  devout  Adela  de 
meaned  herself.  She  sung  out  of  the  same  hymn  book  with  Mr. 
Winterbottom,  and  her  sweet  tones  blended  charmingly,  (so 
thought  Mr.  Winterbottom,)  with  Mr.  W.'s  ground-tenor.  The 
text  was  "Remember  Lot's  wife."  It  was  all  Adela  heard,  for 
the  last  word  set  her  fancy  off  at  a  canter,  and  she  never  reined 
up  till  it  was  all  over.  Not  so  Mr.  Winterbottom  and  Mrs. 
Tripp:  they  listened  to  the  most  fearful  description  of  all  the  inci 
dents  connected  with  the  Scripture  history,  which,  from  the  ex 
treme  minuteness  of  detail  into  which  the  preacher  entered,  one 
would  have  thought  his  hearers  had  never  heard  of  it  before.  He 
commenced  with  the  calling  of  Abraham,  the  selection  of  the  plains 


356  PETER  SCHLEMIHL. 

of  Sodom  and  Gomorrah,  the  dangers  of  wealth  in  the  fostering  of 
all  the  corrupt  tendencies  of  our  nature,  the  arrival  of  the  an 
gels,  and  slightly  touched  upon  the  strange  expedient  Lot  took  to 
save  his  guests;  described,  in  the  most  picturesque  language,  the 
rising  of  the  sun,  the  stillness  of  the  hour,  the  hush  of  expectancy 
in  ail  nature,  and  the  security  of  the  sleeping,  sensual  Sodomites; 
the  flight  of  Lot  and  his  daughters,  the  reluctance  of  Mrs.  Lot; 
proposed  several  strange  but  very  natural  thoughts  which  might 
have  arisen  in  a  lady's  mind,  on  leaving  home  so  early  in  the 
morning  before  making  her  toilet,  and  so,  having  diluted  down  the 
stern  simple  narrative  of  the  Holy  Scriptures  to  the  weakest  pos 
sible  solution,  and  consuming  the  first  forty  minutes  of  the  sermon, 
he  made  a  "forcible-feeble"  appeal  to  the  consciences  of  the  very 
•well  dressed  fashionable  audience  he  had  the  honor  to  address. 

To  Mrs.  Tripp  the  sermon  had  the  charm  of  a  Waverley  novel; 
she  had,  to  be  sure,  some  idea  floating  in  her  mind  that  Sodom 
had  been  burnt  up,  but  the  style  of  preaching  was  entirely  new 
to  her.  Not  so  to  Mr.  Winterbottom;  he  was  accustomed  to  such 
preaching,  and  though  familiar,  it  was  not  the  Jess  interesting  to 
him. 

It  is  pleasant  to  witness  the  aspect  of  a  congregation  up-town 
listening  to  discourses  of  this  sort.  To  men  who  live  surrounded 
by  all  the  luxuries  of  life,  the  preacher  tells  of  the  danger  of 
riches,  and  they  listen  with  a  zest  which  poor  wretches  have  lit 
tle  conception  of.  And  as  these  dangers  are  developed  in  all 
•their  living  realities,  there  they  sit,  and  lay  the  "flattering  unc 
tion  to  their  souls,"  as  they  think  how  successfully  they  have  re 
sisted  and  overcome  all  these  temptations,  and  they  "thank  God, 
and  take  courage,"  in  the  full  assurance  of  faith,  that,  having  met 
and  surmounted  the  fearful  trials  of  life,  they  shall  pass  unscathed 
the  fiery  ordeal  of  a  future  judgment. 

"How  did  you  like  the  sermon,  ladies?"  inquired  Mr.  Winter- 
bottom,  addressing  himself,  however,  to  Adela,  who  was  for  an 
instant  puzzled  how  to  reply;  but  her  watchful  mother  at  once 
replied,  "My  dear  Mr.  Winterbottom,  I  was  delighted.  1  never 
heard  a  more  interesting  discourse.  It  was  so  impressive  and  so 
beautifully  descriptive." 

"It  was,  indeed,"  said  Miss  Adela.  "Do  you  know,  mother, 
who  that  lady  was  in  the  pink  bonnet  and  lace  veil,  that  sat  op 
posite  us?"  asked  Adela,  to  change  the  topic,  and  she  was  suc 
cessful,  for  the  topic  of  who  was  who,  was  sustained  till  they 
reached  the  hotel  and  took  leave  of  Mr.  Winterbottom;  when 
Adela  had  an  opportunity  of  being  "posted-up"  as  to  the  sermon. 
The  afternoon  was  devoted  to  sleep,  which  was  required  by  both 
these  ladies,  and  the  evening  to  a  walk  to  the  spring.  Adela  had 


SUNDAY  EVENING  AT  MRS.  TRIPP's.  357 

an  opportunity  in  the  evening  to  show  off  her  piety  and  her  per 
fect  recollection  of  the  sermon.  Mr.  Winterbottom  was  pleased 
to  find  Adela  so  docile  and  teachable  in  his  religious  sentiments. 
He  told  her  how  the  Presbyterian  church  was  constituted — how 
the  ministers  were  ordained — how  the  ruling  elders  were  elected 
and  set  apart — of  the  duties  of  the  session — of  the  order  of  church 
government — of  the  presbyteries,  and  the  appellate  power  of 
churches  to  presbyteries — from  presbyteries  to  synods — and  from 
synods  to  general  assemblies;  and  all  such  like  sacred  and  devo 
tional  subjects  were  explained  and  commented  on  in  a  very  pious 
manner,  and  Mr.  Winterbottom,  when  he  went  to  sleep,  felt  he 
had  spent  the  day  in  a  very  proper  manner; — just  as  if  there 
was  any  religion  in  all  this. 

Now  while  they  were  so  occupied,  Mrs.  Tripp  was  reading  a 
work  much  more  to  her  taste.  It  was  Rousseau's  Confessions,  and 
finding  a  passage  which  seemed  to  her  important,  she  folded 
down  the  leaf  and  left  it  in  a  very  conspicuous  place  on  Adela's 
table.  The  passage  was  that  in  which  Rousseau  tells  of  his  jour 
ney  with  a  very  lovely  lady,  in  whom  he  had  unconsciously 
awakened  a  tender  passion,  but  such  was  his  extreme  modesty, 
that  none  of  the  methods  adopted  by  her  to  possess  him  of  the 
fact,  being  successful,  during  a  solitary  walk  with  him  in  the 
country,  she  overcame  all  obstacles  with  complete  success,  by 
throwing  her  arms  around  his  neck,  and  kissing  him. 

The  book  lay  unnoticed  by  Adela  till  the  next  morning,  when 
she  was  making  her  toilet  for  breakfast.  She  read  the  pas 
sage,  and  with  flashing  eyes  went  into  .her  mother's  room,  and 
asked  her  for  what  purpose  she  had  folded  down  that  page. 
"Do  you  think,  mother,  it  would  be  best  for  me  to  throw  my 
arms  round  Mr.  Winterbottom's  neck?  Was  that  your  thought?" 

"  Certainly  not,  my  dear,"  replied  her  mother  with  the  utmost 
quietness  of  manner.  "You  are  to  ride  out  with  Mr.  WTinterbot- 
tom  this  morning,  and  I  thought  you  would  perhaps  see  in  the 
conduct  of  this  lady  the  favorable  positions  which  a  woodland  walk 
might  afford  for  the  inception,  if  not  expression,  of  tender  emo 
tions." 

"  If  you  suppose  I  shall  compromit  myself,  in  any  unmaidenly 
manner,  to  win  Mr.  Winterbottom,  you  are  mistaken,  mother.  If 
he  marries  me,  he  shall  have  the  comfort  to  believe  he  inspired 
love  in  me,  and  was  not  carried  by  force  of  arms  as  this  lady 
captured  Monsieur  Rousseau.  If  I  am  to  live  with  Mr.  Winter- 
bottom,  I  shall  need  his  respect,  and  no  certainty  of  success  could 
induce  me  to  act  so  as  to  lose  it." 

"All  very  proper,  my  dear  Adela,"  replied  Mrs.  Tripp;  "you 
speak  like  a  book.  But  I'll  tell  you,  child,  you  feel  the  necessity 


358  PETER  SCHLEMIHL. 

of  bringing  matters  to  a  close ;  you  see  the  usual  methods  are  not 
effective;  now  you  must  seek  some  new  scenes,  which  will  give 
rise  to  new  topics,  and  present  to  his  mind,  in  contrast  with  his 
position,  the  pleasures  of  affection  and  the  images  of  domestic  life. 
These  may  bring  him  out.  And  I  recommend  you  to  think  seri 
ously  of  what  I  say." 

The  day  was  bright  and  beautiful.  And  Mr.  Winterbottom 
and  Adela  were  in  the  saddle  by  ten  o'clock.  She  looked  sweetly, 
and  her  horse  was  in  fine  prancing  mood.  Adela  had  the  plea 
sure  of  receiving  the  admiring  gaze  of  the  well-dressed  crowd, 
who  thronged  on  the  verandah  to  see  them  off,  and  witnessed  the 
envious  looks  of  Katrine  and  all  the  other  Tromps,  old  and 
young,  not  forgetting  the  Van  Dams.  Mrs.  Tripp  went  about 
among  them,  saying  to  one  and  another — "Doesn't  Adela  look 
well?  Isn't  that  a  beautiful  riding  cap  ?"  Meanwhile  Mr.  Win 
terbottom  was  engaged  in  the  very  delicate  and  delightful  task  of 
arranging  the  folds  of  Adela's  riding-dress.  "Good-by,  love. 
Good-day,  Mr.  Winterbottom,"  cried  Mrs.  Tripp,  as  they  rode 
away  at  a  rapid  pace. 

Though  Adela  was  so  indignant  in  the  morning  at  her  mo 
ther's  suggestion,  yet  it  rested  upon  her  mind,  and  after  riding  a 
couple  of  hours,  they  came  to  where  the  road  Jay  along  a  beautiful 
lake,  through  a  grove  of  trees,  which  afforded  a  deep  shade,  and 
Adela  proposed  to  Mr.  Winterbottom,  that  they  should  dismount 
and  walk  awhile  in  the  wood,  where  the  sward  was  as  fresh  and 
as  level  as  a  Turkey  carpet.  Mr.  Winterbottom  was  pleased 
with  the  plan,  and  hastened  to  dismount  and  fasten  his  horse  to 
the  boughs  of  the  trees,  which  swept  down  so  low  as  to  be  readily 
reached. 

This  done,  he  came  to  the  side  of  Adela,  who  threw  herself 
from  her  saddle  into  his  arms  with  the  most  delightful  abandon 
ment.  Mr.  Winterbottom  felt  the  pressure  on  his  breast  for  an 
instant,  and  Adela  shaking  out  the  folds  of  her  dress,  took  up  the 
train  and  threw  it  over  her  arm,  whence  it  fell  in  graceful  folds, 
revealing  her  spotless  petticoat,  and  an  ankle  very  neat,  and  pret 
tily  set  on  to  a  foot  well  suited  to  be  a  modele  in  a  studio.  All 
this  was  noticed  by  Mr.  WTinterbottom  as  he  tied  Adela's  bridle  to 
the  boughs  of  a  tree. 

Coming  up  to  Adela,  Mr.  Winterbottom  offered  his  arm,  which, 
with  a  blush  of  modesty  and  a  look  of  tenderness,  she  took.  What 
there  was  to  call  it  forth  did  not  so  readily  occur  to  him,  but  still 
it  was  so  attractive,  that  he  could  not  but  look  into  the  face  of 
Adela,  and  again  it  was  renewed,  and  her  eyes  fell  to  the  ground. 
They  now  walked  on  in  silence,  when  Mr.  Winterbottom,  gather 
ing  up  his  thoughts,  and  seeing  a  picturesque  cottage,  hid  among 


MISERIES  OF  BEING  RICH.  359 

embowering  trees,  surrounded  by  a  white  paling,  wearing  all  the 
attractions  of  taste  and  refinement,  pointed  it  out  to  Adela. 

"O,  is  it  not  sweet!"  exclaimed  Adela.  "  And  how  much  of 
happiness,  and  serenity  and  peace  seems  hid  in  that  sweet  cot 
tage  !  How  few  who  are  living  in  our  thronged  city  are  able  to 
estimate  all  the  freshness  and  purity  of  such  a  home!  and  yet, 
perhaps,  the  inmates  of  that  happy  home  may  have  looked  with 
admiration,  and  even  of  envy  upon  the  possessions  of  those  whose 
homes  are  the  palaces  of  Babylon.  Such  is  life!"  and  Adela,  whose 
tones  had  become  sweetly  sad  as  she  proceeded,  here  stopped 
and  sighed. 

"Ah!  my  dear  Miss  Adela,"  said  Mr.  Winterbottom,  "few 
people  know  anything  of  the  miseries  of  those  who  are  wealthy. 
They  see  us  living  in  fine  houses,  and  rolling  past  them  in  splendid 
carriages,  and  they  say — 'there's  a  happy  man!'  They  can't  see 
beyond  the  outside  of  things.  They  know  nothing  of  the  anxieties 
which  reach  us  through  a  thousand  avenues  : — does  the  fire-bell 
toll  ?  they  have  no  anxiety  lest  the  flames  should  be  converting 
their  fortunes  into  smoke — do  they  read  of  hurricanes  and  storms 
at  sea?  they  have  neither  ships,  nor  stocks  to  be  engulfed  in  the 
ocean.  They  hear  of  vast  commercial  embarrassments,  but  have 
no  inquietudes  how  they  may  be  affected  by  them.  I  assure  you, 
Miss  Adela,  I  am  never  certain  whether  my  income,  in  any  one 
year  of  my  life,  is  to  be  ten  thousand  or  two  hundred  and  fifty 
thousand;  and  yet,  everybody  sets  me  down  at  the  highest  sum. 
Nor  is  this  all ;  my  servant  puts  upon  my  breakfast-table  a  heap  of 
letters  received  by  the  morning's  mail,  t  say  to  myself — '  well, 
they  shall  wait  'till  I  finish  my  coffee;'  but  usually  I  have  a  reason 
to  read  some  particular  letter  upon  a  subject  of  instant  importance, 
and  so  I  am  induced  to  glance  my  eye  over  the  superscriptions,  and 
not  exactly  knowing  which  it  may  be,  I  select  one  at  a  venture.  I 
open  it,  it  is  from  a  lady — 'she  has  lost  her  husband,  he  was  her 
all ;  on  his  industry,  her  hopes,  and  on  his  life,  all  her  happiness 
was  centered ;  he  is  in  the  grave.  She  has  three  young  children, 
and  a  baby  four  months  old.  God  has  made  her  happy  home  as 
dark  as  the  tomb.  She  owes  me  seven  hundred  dollars  for  the 
rent  of  her  house.  She  proposes  I  shall  take  her  furniture  for 
pay,  and  hire  it  to  her,  and  she  will  strive  to  support  herself  and 
family  by  keeping  boarders;  and  begs  me  to  avert  the  stern  re 
quirements  of  my  business  man,  who  insists  on  her  removal.' 
And  while  the  warm  tears  are  running  down  my  cheeks,  my 
coffee  is  getting  cold.  .  Then  I  have  to  endorse  in  pencil  to  my 
agent  to  cancel  the  debt,  and  give  her  six  months  rent  free;  this 
done,  I  order  a  fresh  cup  of  coffee,  and  make  another  venture.  I 
open  a  letter;  it  is  written  in  a  beautiful  hand  by  a  fine  boy  whose 


360  PETER  SCHLEMIHL. 

parents  are  dead,  and  he  says  he  must  leave  school  and  go  to 
work,  and  wants  employment.  Offers  to  drive  a  cart,  or  a  car 
riage,  to  work  in  the  house  or  out  of  it;  but  he  must  work  or  beg, 
and  so  he  selects  me  of  all  the  people  of  Babylon,  to  set  him  to 
work.  Now  here's  a  subject  for  a  half-hour's  thinking:  what 
must  be  done  for  him?  or,  perhaps,  as  was  the  case  the  day 
I  left,  a  girl  writes  me  her  mother  is  dying,  and  she  can't  buy 
even  the  medicine  necessary  to  mitigate  her  sufferings.  The  letter 
takes  me  ten  minutes  to  decipher — here,  then,  was  a  case  that  de 
manded  instant  attention.  John  must  be  called,  and  then  'twas 
found  the  girl  had  forgotten  to  give  her  number;  that  must  be 
found  from  the  Directory ;  and  he  sent  off  with  money  and  a  basket 
of  eatables,  and  before  I  could  set  down  again  to  my  table,  the 
beefsteak  was  cold,  and  so  ends  my  breakfast. 

"  Well,  then,  Miss  Adela,  I  commence  the  task  of  reading  my 
letters.  Some  I  find  full  of  excellent  advice,  gentle  hints,  how  I 
can  do  a  vast  deal  of  good;  others  again  complaining  that  their 
rent  is  too  high;  some  saying  my  agent  had  promised  improve 
ments  and  alterations,  never  yet  made  ;  and  before  I  get  through 
all  these  details  of  trials  and  sorrows,  in  walks  a  gentleman  in. 
black  who  hands  me  a  letter  of  introduction.  He  is  the  agent  of 
some  society  which  has  for  its  object  the  conversion  of  the  Jews, 
the  civilization  of  Africa,  or  the  illumination  of  the  world,  and  I 
have  to  listen  to  him.  He  tells  me  a  long  story  of  the  vast  fields 
of  usefulness  opening  to  their  society;  the  necessity  of  instant  and 
vigorous  exertions ;  the  Catholics  are  already  in  the  field  ;  and  after 
working  up  my  nerves  to  their  extremest  tension,  he  digresses  into 
the  responsibilities  of  men  of  wealth;  their  being  the  stewards  of 
God's  mercies,  to  be  held  to  a  strict  account  for  every  dollar  they 
spend  ;  and  woe,  woe  to  the  man  whose  gold  is  rusting,  while  souls 
are  going  to  perdition;  and  then  he  comes  to  the  last  grand  de 
monstration,  money — money.  In  the  utmost  alarm,!  ask  him  'if 
all  I  am  worth  will  be  a  drop  in  the  bucket,'  and  he  tells  me,  *  ten 
thousand  dollars  will  free  my  skirts  of  the  dreadful  responsibility 
under  which  I  Jive.'  So  grateful  to  have  my  house  left  over  my 
head,  I  give  him  a  check  for  the  money,  and  he  takes  his  leave. 
Then,  too,  I  have  most  eloquent  appeals  to  aid  young  men  to 
establish  themselves  in  business,  or,  what  I  hate  most  of  all,  the 
most  terrible  heart-rending  appeals,  '  to  lend  my  name  for  only 
sixty  days  to  save  some  friend  Whom  I  never  saw  a  dozen  times 
in  my  life,'  (except  it  was  at  parties  I  was  compelled  to  go  to, 
given  by  them  at  vast  expense;  and  whom  I  supposed  to  be  mil 
lionaires,)  'and  whose  innocent  and  lovely  wife  and  children,  all 
unconscious  of  impending  destruction,  will  be  saved  from  ruin  and 
inconceivable  misery,  by  my  compliance  ;  and  all  this  without  the 


361 

slightest  risk  to  myself — and  in  conclusion,  they  tell  me  the  re 
collections  of  their  ruined  family  must  haunt  my  pillow,  if  I  refuse 
to  lend  a  helping  hand  to  a  sinking  brother  in  his  hour  of  anguish.' 
Now  only  think  of  it,  dear  Miss  Adela,  to  go  to  bed  with  such 
frightful  pictures  of  distress  dancing  on  the  curtains  of  my  bed 
like  so  many  spectres,  to  say  nothing  of  being  bored  to  death  to 
subscribe  for  stocks  for  roads  and  canals  highly  necessary  to  the 
welfare  of  our  city,  and  all  important  to  the  interests  of  our  pos 
terity,  Miss  Adela." 

Here  Miss  Adela  looked  at  Mr.  Winterbottom  with  a  gaze  of 
tenderness,  but  he  was  too  full  of  his  subject  just  then  to  appre 
ciate  it,  and  so  she  let  her  eyes  fall  to  the  ground. 

"  Such,  dear  Miss  Tripp,  are  a  few  of  the  miseries  of  moneyed 
men.  I  can't  tell  you  how  often  I  am  deprived  of  all  relish 
for  my  dinner,  by  tales  of  the  most  loathsome  wretchedness, 
which  God  knows  I  would  relieve  at  the  sacrifice  of  my  life,  if  I 
could  do  so;  and  this  is  not  the  life  of  a  day,  but  from  one  year's 
end  to  the  other.  Well !  I  meet  all  these  demands  as  best  I  may. 
I  often  wish  I  had  been  born  a  beggar,  for  then  sometimes  I  should 
be  happy.  Ah  !  if  a  man  wants  to  be  miserable,  let  him  be 
rich." 

Adela,  finding  Mr.  Winterbottom  fairly  out  of  breath,  now  found 
her  tongue,  and  spoke  of  the  pleasures  of  a  country  life,  its  freedom 
from  the  cares  and  turmoils  of  the  city — its  healthful  occupations, 
and  its  sweet  repose. 

"  Alas !"  she  said,  in  her  sweetest  tones,  and  they  were  beauti 
fully  soft  and  clear,  "  how  little  are  those  ladies  to  be  envied,  who 
are  surrounded  by  the  splendor  of  a  city — which  brings  with  it 
so  much  anxiety,  where  you  are  not  sure  that  the  friends  who  fill 
your  parlors,  are  not,  at  the  moment,  making  you  the  victim  of 
their  sneers,  or,  perhaps,  their  scandal;  where  the  seclusion  of 
home  is  liable  to  a  thousand  interruptions,  which  the  conventional 
laws  of  fashionable  life  require  to  be  conformed  to,  and  which  we 
must  endure.  And  how  often  does  the  possession  of  wealth 
sever  hearts  who  would  be  bound  to  each  other  with  the  strong 
ties  of  Jove,  if  poverty  had  but  shown  them  how  dear  they  could 
by  any  means  be  made  to  each  other.  'Tis  the  poor  who  rely 
with  confidence  on  each  other.  They  bear  their  mutual  sorrows, 
and  share  their  mutual  joys.  The  hour  of  assembling  their  little 
circle  is  the  reward  of  all  their  toils.  Ah!  how  happy  are  those 
who  are  possessed  of  a  cottage  so  sweet  as  the  one  we  have  just 
passed — who  are  strong  in  each  other's  affections,  and  who  need 
no  other  ties  than  those  which  love  confers." 

Mr.  Winterbottom  listened  with  delight,  as  men  always  do, 
when  listening  to  a  pretty  girl  discoursing  her  sweet  sentimenlali- 


362  PETER  SCHLEMIHL. 

ties.  Adela  sighed.  Mr.  Winter-bottom  looked  into  Adela's  face; 
he  caught  her  eye  beaming  upon  him  with  the  fullest  and  fondest 
expression  of  love  which  she  could  command,  and  he  felt  his  arm 
pressed  closely  to  her  side ;  her  eyes  again  fell  in  sweet  confu 
sion. 

"Ah!"  said  Mr.  Winterbottom,  unconsciously  aloud,  "it  is  too 
late  !"  and  then  relapsed  into  a  brown  study,  in  which  he  saw 
Adela  sitting  in  a  lovely  dressing  gown,  her  hair  in  sweet  disorder 
hanging  over  her  shoulders,  and  a  beautiful  baby  in  her  Jap,  to 
whom  she  was  in  the  act  of  revealing  a  bosom  of  spotless  purity, 
whose  little  hands  were  tearing  away  impatiently  the  muslin 
folds  which  confined,  but  did  not  conceal  the  mother's  breast. 
It  was  a  sweet  vision  of  hope  and  blessedness. 

Adela,  not  being  able  to  divine  his  thoughts,  and  fearing  lest 
they  might  be  straying  away  from  the  subject  under  considera 
tion,  now  said,  in  a  tone  yet  more  tender,  and  with  a  sweet  confu 
sion  of  voice  and  manner — 

"  How  can  you  say  so,  dear  Mr.  Winterbottom?" 

Nobody  can  tell  what  he  would  have  said,  or  where  this  would 
have  ended,  had  not  Captain  Townly  came  suddenly  upon  them, 
climbing  over  a  fence  near  by,  with  a  gun  on  his  shoulder,  and 
game  in  his  hands. 

"  How  are  you,  Winterbottom  !  Good  day,  Miss  Tripp!"  said 
the  captain.  "  What  has  brought  you  here  ?" 

This  was  a  staggering  question  to  Winterbottom,  which  at  once 
opened  to  view,  as  if  by  magic,  the  bottomless  abyss  upon  whose 
brink  he  stood.  Adela  saw  his  confusion,  and  said  in  a  quiet 
even  tone,  "  that  they  had  been  riding,  and  as  the  sun  was  ex 
cessively  bright,  they  had  dismounted  to  walk  a  little  while  on 
this  beautiful  green  sward."  She  saw  the  charm  was  over,  the 
spell  broken,  at  least  for  the  present, — and  with  fine  tact  at  once 
told  the  captain  she  must  be  permitted  to  take  his  arm,  and  Mr. 
Winterbottom  should  take  his  gun,  and  she  was  sure  Mr.  Winter- 
bottom  would  be  most  happy  of  the  exchange,  and  she  should 
secure  two  attendants  instead  of  one;  and  so  she  rattled  on  with 
great  joyousness  of  manner,  and  gradually  Mr.  Winterbottom  re 
gained  his  self-possession,  and  was  able  to  talk  with  the  captain. 

On  reaching  their  horses,  Adela  insisted  that  Captain  Townly 
should  reseat  her,  and  she  allowed  herself  to  be  lifted  by  him  into 
the  saddle,  laughing  at  the  captain  for  looking  red  in  the  face 
from  having  made  so  great  an  effort,  and  all  being  ready,  she  put 
the  whip  to  her  horse,  crying,  "Good  day, captain,"  in  a  gay  tone, 
and  rode  off. 

The  captain  stood  admiring  her,  "  Well,  let  her  have  him!" 
he  exclaimed,  when  they  were  out  of  hearing.  "  She's  a  fine 


ADELA  AND  CAPTAIN  TOWNLY.  363 

girl,  though  she's  the  child  of  her  mother,  and  a  thousand  times 
too  good  for  him." 

Adela  rode  her  horse  at  the  top  of  his  speed,  and  so  saved  her 
self  from  any  further  conversation  with  Mr.  Winterbottom.  On 
reaching  her  mother's  room,  she  threw  off  her  riding  cap,  and 
then  gave  way  to  a  flood  of  tears.  Mrs.  Tripp  looked  on  with 
astonishment.  She  had  seen  Adela  ride  up  with  an  air  of  hilarity 
which  delighted  her,  and  had  hoped  to  have  heard  the  most  joy 
ous  tidings  of  success  from  Adela,  whom  she  now  found  speech 
less  from  tears  and  sobs. 

"It  is  all,  all  over,  mother!"  cried  Adela,  sobbing  passionately. 

"My  dear  child,"  said  Mrs.  Tripp,  folding  her  arms  around 
Adela,  and  laying  her  head  on  her  shoulder,  "  tell  me  all  that  has 
happened." 

Adela  had  her  cry  out,  and  then  wiped  away  her  tears,  and 
told  all  that  had  occurred  with  that  remarkable  precision  and  mi 
nuteness  of  detail  which  are  peculiar  to  young  ladies  when  they 
fully  set  about  giving  their  confidence  on  such  subjects. 

Mrs.  Tripp  was  in  deep  dismay  at  the  untoward  turn  matters 
had  taken.  Adela  said,  in  a  passionate  tone  to  her  mother — 

"  Had  Captain  Townly  been  shooting  anywhere  else,  or  what 
would  have  been  just  as  much  to  my  taste,  had  he  been  shot  any 
where  else,  the  whole  matter  would  have  been  settled.  A  decla 
ration  of  some  sort  would  have  been  made ;  I  should  of  course  have 
been  deeply  moved,  and  felt  like  fainting.  Mr.  Winterbottom 
would  have  been  compelled,  indeed  he  must  have  put  his  arms 
around  rny  waist.  I  could  then  have  swooned  away,  and  he  would 
have  gently  laid  me  on  the  grass;  after  giving  him  all  the  time 
requisite,  I  would  have  opened  my  eyes,  and  it  would  have  been 
the  most  natural  thing  for  him  to  have  kissed  me  then,  if  he  had 
not  done  so  before,  and  then  I  could,  consistently  with  my  notions 
of  propriety,  have  thrown  my  arms  round  his  neck,  hid  my  face 
in  his  bosom,  and  the  whole  affair  would  have  been  ended." 

"  Yes,"  said  her  mother,  «*  no  doubt,  dear  Adela,  and  all  that 
was  to  follow  would  have  been  a  mere  matter  of  pastime  and  parade 
duty. — the  battle  would  have  been  fought,  the  victory  won — and 
in  one  week  you  would  have  been  ready  to  have  gone  back  to 
Babylon." 

"But  now,"  said  Adela,  "it's  all  over, and  never  can  be  brought 
on  again — I  tell  you,  mother,  it  is  all  over!" 

Such  was  the  course  of  their  conversation,  and  such  the  ultimate 
convictions  of  the  daughter.  Mrs.  Tripp,  though  she  had  more 
cause  than  Adela  to  fear  such  a  result,  calmed  her  daughter, 
assuring  her  that,  so  far  from  being  all  over,  Mr.  Winterbottom 
would  probably  regret  the  appearance  of  Capt.  Townly  more  than 


364  PETER  SCHLEMIHL. 

she  could  do;  but  that  it  was  certainly  important  that  they  should 
change  their  plans  to  meet  the  unforeseen  aspects  the  case  now 
wore. 

"  I  hate  the  sight  of  that  man  Townly,"  said  Adela,  with  the 
bitterness  of  grief. 

"  Dear  Adela,"  replied  the  mother,  "remember  he  is  the  friend 
of  Mr.  Winterbottom,  and  he  can  help  us.  He  has  a  very  pretty 
niece  here,  whom  you  must  speak  to.  These  men  are  very  much 
influenced  by  their  friends,  and  I  particularly  wish  you  would 
make  yourself  agreeable  to  Capt.  Townly  and  Miss  Flora  Good- 
enough,  his  niece.  Tact,  my  child,  tact  is  everything!  you  have 
shown  me  that  you  are  the  mistress  of  yourself!  I  assure  you 
that  is  one  of  the  greatest  of  all  attainments  for  a  young  lady  to 
make.  I  believed  you  were  possessed  of  it,  but  now,  Adela,  I 
know  it;  and,  let  me  tell  you,  there  are  few  who  attain  to  it." 

Adela  was  soothed.  "  Mother,  I  am  weary  and  worn  out — £ 
must  rest — excuse  me  at  dinner  as  best  you  may.  Say  I've  a 
sick  headache  ;  no,  that  won't  do;  I  prefer  it  should  be  the  colic, 
to  that — Mr.  Winterbottom  must  not  know  I've  a  headache.  Say 
anything,  mother,  but  I  can't  go  down  to  dinner,  and  can't  and 
won't  be  seen  till  after  supper."  So  her  mother  undressed  her, 
and  left  her  to  sleep  away  her  griefs.  Sweet  sleep,  that  freshens 
up  even  the  aged,  now  came,  and  Adela  wore  a  placid,  calm,  and 
lovely  aspect — the  very  picture  of  innocence — as  she  lay  sleeping ; 
and,  could  Mr.  Winterbottom  have  looked  in  upon  her,  all  the 
dark  surmises  of  his  brain  would  have  been  dissipated,  and  the 
only  wonder  would  have  been  how  the  accidents  of  wealth  and 
society  could  have  offered  inducements  so  great  as  to  make  him 
worthy  of  Adela's  acceptance.  At  dinner,  Mrs.  Tripp  found  Mr. 
Winterbottom  more  sedate  and  reserved  than  usual.  He  asked 
for  Adela,  and  when  Mrs.  Tripp  made  her  excuse,  he  was  silent, 
and  Mrs.  Tripp  turned  the  current  of  his  thoughts  by  speaking  of 
some  on-dits  of  the  day  she  had  gathered  from  the  newspapers 
received  while  they  were  away.  A  dreadful  shipwreck  helped 
out  the  dessert,  and  as  they  rose  from  dinner,  Mr.  Winterbottom 
led  Mrs.  Tripp  to  the  drawing-room,  and  bowing,  retired. 

The  crisis  of  affairs  with  Captain  Townly  had  now  arrived. 
He  had  followed  Mrs.  Tripp  into  the  saloon,  and  bringing  up  his 
niece,  introduced  her  to  Mrs.  Tripp,  who  received  her  in  the  most 
affable  manner,  and,  taking  her  arm,  asked  leave  to  go  round  the 
room  with  her.  They  fell  into  the  throng  of  those  who  were  pro 
menading,  and  Mrs.  Tripp  kept  Miss  Flora  in  a  constant  play  of 
conversation.  There  was  no  lack  for  food  for  her  wit  and  fancy. 

"Look!  my  dear  Miss  Goodenough,  at  that  group.  See!  there 
stands  a  lady  of  some  inland  town  or  village,  whose  highest  hopes 


SCENE  IN  THE  SALOON  AT  THE  SPRINGS.  365 

are  this  day  realized — she  is  at  the  springs!  she  knows  nobody, 
and  here  is  nobody — her  husband  may  be  the  squire  of  the  village, 
or  the  richest  man  in  the  town,  or  perhaps  a  member  of  the  legis 
lature,  and  this  is  her  entree  into  public  life — with  what  a  look  of 
vacancy  she  gazes  on  the  fine  ladies  and  gentlemen  she  sees  here. 
And  her  husband,  too!  how  anxious  he  looks  to  see  some  face  to 
recognize.  Yes!  there  the  governor  sees  him — with  what  joy  he 
shakes  his  hand.  And  the  lady !  she's  presented  to  the  governor 
'—her  husband  is,  after  all,  somebody — they  are  a  peg  higher  in 
their  own  self-estimation.  And  her  husband !  he's  looking  to  see 
who  may  be  the  witnesses  of  his  importance.  Alas!  no  one  is  in 
sight,  who  sees.  He  seeks  to  detain  the  governor,  who  bows  and 
passes — and  now  the  wife  and  husband  relapse  into  their  former 
nothingness. 

"Heavens!"  continued  Mrs.  Tripp,  "did  you  ever  see  such  a 
fright  as  that  lady  is?"  pointing  to  a  lady  fair-and-forty,  parading 
an  old  beau  of  sixty,  whose  few  hairs  were  carefully  brushed  from 
the  back  of  his  head,  and  curled  over  a  bald  pate.  "That  is  a  very 
fashionable  lady  from  Bostonia — she  comes  here  as  regular  as  the 
season,  and  every  year  ten  pounds  heavier.  Oh,  my  dear  Miss 
Goodenough,  we  must  go  to  the  ball  on  Wednesday  evening  to  see 
her  dance.  I  have  often  trembled  for  the  safety  of  the  floor  when 
witnessing  her  tours  deforce,  expecting  every  moment  to  see  her 
descend  into  the  cellar  with  a  crash,  carrying  us  all  down  with 
her.  Look  at  her  beau  !  Though  he's  so  old,  he  has  been  taking 
lessons  of  Korponay,  in  dancing  the  PoJka,  and  will  exhibit  him 
self  on  next  Wednesday,  for  he  is  to  dance  with  that  splendidly- 
dressed  Spanish-looking, lady,  whose  diamonds  are  only  rivalled 
by  her  eyes." 

And  so  Mrs.  Tripp  ran  on  in  one  unbroken  string  of  comments 
on  the  company  around  them,  to  the  admiration  of  the  young 
girl,  to  whom  all  these  were  strangers,  and  when  the  captain 
called  to  take  the  arm  of  his  niece,  and  relieve  Mrs.  Tripp  of  her 
"  parade  duty,"  Flora  said  to  her  uncle,  "  What  a  most  interesting 
lady  you  have  introduced  me  to !  I  never  was  more  amused  and 
delighted  than  I  have  been  in  her  society." 

The  captain  replied,  coldly,  "I  have  very  little  acquaintance 
with  Mrs.  Tripp,  but  have  heard  she  was  very  brilliant,  and  could 
be  very  sarcastic." 

"Oh  yes!  she  is,"  said  the  innocent  girl;  "but  then  she  is  so 
clever." 

"  My  dear  Flora,"  replied  the  captain,  "  listen  to  me  ;  these  very 
clever  people  are  not  always  harmless.  The  same  skill  with 
which  they  show  up  others,  may  be  turned  upon  ourselves.  I 
have  no  wish  you  should  know  Mrs.  Tripp,  except  as  an  acquaint- 


366  PETER  SCHLEMIHL. 

ance  at  this  place;  here  she  may  help  to  amuse  you,  but  in  Baby 
lon  give  her  a  wide  berth ;  do  you  hear?" 

"  Yes,  dear  uncle;  but  she  has  a  fine,  fashionable  air  and  man 
ner,  and  that  is  always  pleasing,  and  then  her  conversational 
powers  are  admirable." 

The  captain  now  gave  up  Flora  to  Jack  Musard,  and  withdrew. 
Though  this  exercise  had  been  so  gratifying  to  Flora,  to  Mrs. 
Tripp  it  was  anything  but  amusing,  for  she  had  seen  what  had 
escaped  the  notice  of  her  young  companion.  There  were  many 
of  "  her  set,"  who  looked  their  surprise  at  her  new  found  friend, 
and  as  for  Katrine  Von  Tromp,  that  young  lady  threw  up  her 
eyes  to  the  ceiling,  and  spread  out  her  fingers  by  her  side,  with 
an  air  which,  had  it  been  in  any  other  place,  would  have  led  a 
looker  on  to  have  believed  she  had  been  inspired  by  some  sudden 
fit  of  devotion,  which  found  its  appropriate  expression  in  an  ejacu- 
iatory  prayer. 

Retiring  to  her  room,  Mrs.  Tripp  found  Adela  still  sleeping, 
and  she  sat  down  to  meditate  on  the  many  trials  of  fashionable 
life. 

The  next  day  brought  Colonel  Worth  and  family,  Mr.  De  Lisle 
and  Mrs.  Smith,  whose  seats  at  the  table  were  immediately  oppo 
site  to  them,  and  next  the  Van  Dams.  Mr.  Winterbottom  was 
delighted  to  see  them,  and  Mrs.  Tripp  had  to  follow  his  example 
as  near  as  it  was  possible,  though  in  her  heart  she  wished  them 
on  the  other  side  of  the  globe.  Adela  assumed  a  quiet  air,  which 
well  became  her  On  rising  from  the  table,  Mr.  De  Lisle  took 
Adela's  arm,  and  Mr.  Winterbottom  that  of  Mrs.  Smith.  This  ex 
change  was  natural,  and  Adela  had  no  reason  to  regret  it,  for  De 
Lisle  was  decidedly  the  greatest  catch  of  the  two,  in  the  estima 
tion  of  the  Van  Dams,  who,  while  they  looked  on  at  the  scenes 
in  which  Mr.  Winterbottom  was  a  principal,  with  an  amused  air, 
were  really  envious  when  they  saw  his  place  assumed  by  Mr. 
De  Lisle. 

Adela  recovered  her  powers,  and  adapting  herself  to  the  cha 
racter  of  her  companion,  talked  the  best  sense,  in  the  best  man 
ner  she  knew  how  to  command,  and  Mr.  De  Lisle  and  Mrs. 
Smith,  as  well  as  Mrs.  Worth  and  Grace,  expressed  to  her  their 
pleasure  to  meet  her  again,  and  promised  to  spend  the  evening 
with  her,  in  her  mother's  parlor,  after  supper.  They  did  so. 
Mr.  Winterbottom  came  in  with  them  ;  he  took  no  part  in  the 
conversation,  but  sat  silent  and  reserved,  wearing  an  abstracted 
air,  and  when  Adela  was  asked  to  sing,  he  expressed  no  wish  to 
hear  any  of  his  favorite  songs,  and  though  Adela  sung  those  old 
Jacobite  songs  which  required  a  chorus,  no  chorus  was  forthcom 
ing. 


MR.  WINTERBOTTOM  SEEKS  SAFETY  IN  FLIGHT.  367 

Mrs.  Tripp  saw  all  this  as  plainly  as  the  nose  on  his  face,  and 
a  sinking  of  despair  took  full  possession  of  her  heart. 

When  all  were  gone,  Adela  took  a  seat  in  front  of  her  mother, 
having  first  placed  a  lamp  where  it  would  shine  full  into  her  face, 
said,  "  Now,  mother,  what  do  you  think  ?  Isn't  it  all  up  with  Mr. 
Winterbottom  ?" 

"  I  fear  it  is,  Adela ;  but  still  there  are  other  strings  to  pull.  We 
have  other  appliances  to  bring  to  bear  upon  him." 

"  Such  as  what,  if  you  please,"  said  Adela,  with  an  air  of 
greatest  wonderment,  "  for  I  have  exhausted  all  I  know  any 
thing  of." 

"  My  child,"  replied  the  mother,  "I  will  talk  with  you  in  the 
morning ;  I've  had  enough  to  suffer  for  one  day,  and  now  I  bid 
you  good-night  !" 

And  Adela,  with  the  confidence  of  youth  and  beauty,  retired  to 
her  room,  relieved  of  a  pressure,  which,  unconsciously  to  herself, 
had  weighed  upon  her  spirits.  She  had  been  anxious  to  succeed, 
because  she  had  determined  to  be  successful;  but  she  was  sure 
few  men,  no  one  worth  having,  could  have  resisted  the  powers 
she  had  exerted.  And  now  she  would  prove  herself  in  a  direc 
tion,  where  success,  if  it  gave  her  not  great  wealth,  should  secure 
for  her  what  was  better,  distinction,  the  distinction  which  always 
attends  upon  a  woman  allied  to  a  man  of  talents.  She  would  ex 
periment  on  Mr.  De  Lisle. 

Such  were  her  last  thoughts,  as  she  sunk  to  sleep,  and  her 
dreams  were  full  of  beautiful  imagery,  and  she  awoke  with  a  joy- 
ousness  of  heart  every  way  delightful. 

Now  her  mother  had  slept  but  little,  and  the  aspect  with  which 
she  met  her  daughter,  was  full  of  care  and  mental  suffering. 

At  breakfast,  Adela  appeared  in  fine  health  and  gayety  of  spi 
rits,  and  Mr.  De  Lisle  and  Mrs.  Smith  both  spoke  in  terms  highly 
complimentary  of  her  appearance.  Mr.  Winterbottom  listened, 
but  said  nothing. 

At  dinner,  he  was  absent,  and  Mrs.  Tripp  and  Adela  found 
their  way  to  the  table  under  the  escort  of  Mr.  De  Lisle  and  Mrs. 
Smith.  From  the  hall,  they  retired  to  their  rooms,  and  found  a 
note  from  Mr.  Winterbottom,  saying,  he  had  called  to  inform  them 
that  business  of  an  urgent  nature  had  called  him  to  the  city,  that 
he  regretted  to  find  them  out,  and  hoped  Mrs.  Tripp  and  Adela 
would  find  themselves  at  home  with  their  mutual  friends,  whom 
he  had  requested  to  supply  any  lack  of  attention  they  might  re 
quire  during  his  absence. 

"  The  bird  is  flown !"  said  Adela,  with  a  sprightly  tone  and 
manner. 


368  PETER  SCHLEMIHL. 

"Not  so  far,"  replied  Mrs.  Tripp,  with  asperity,  "but  he 
shall  be  brought  back." 

"  Who  is  to  go  after  him,  mother?  I  tell  you,  once  for  all,  I 
won't!" 

"You  won't !  my  child,  that  is  very  strange  language  for  you 
to  adopt.  You  must  obey  me,  your  mother;  and  though  I  shall 
ask  you  to  do  nothing  unworthy  of  you,  I  expect  you  to  act  like 
a  woman  of  sense." 

"  And  pray,  what  can  such  a  sensible  lady  as  myself  do  in  the 
case  ?  He  is  gone — he  is  rid  of  us  and  we  of  him.  So  let  it  be," 
said  Adela,  smiling. 

"  So  it  shan't  be,"  said  Mrs.  Tripp,  in  an  angry  tone. 

"  And  how  can  you  help  yourself,  mother?"  said  the  daughter, 
with  a  most  provoking  smile. 

.Mrs.  Tripp  was  in  no  smiling  rnood,  and  that  she  was  offended 
by  the  levity  of  her  dear  daughter,  it  required  no  spectacles  to 
see,  but  she  suppressed  her  emotions,  and  taking  up  a  ruffle,  set 
herself  at  work,  sewing  it.  Adela  rose,  and  went  to  her  piano, 
and  in  a  few  moments,  forgot  all  the  troubles  of  the  past,  in  the 
present  difficulties  of  a  chromatic  passage  she  was  playing,  of  the 
all  but  impossible  piano  compositions  of  De  Meyer. 

Mrs.  Tripp,  having  recovered  her  self-control,  called  Adela  to 
her  seat,  and  commenced  speaking: 

"  Adela  !  Mr.  Winterbottom  is  a  man  of  generous  and  very  de 
licate  feelings." 

Adela  said  not  a  word,  but  looked  incredulously.  Her  mother 
went  on. 

"  He  has,  now,  for  several  months,  visited  our  house  with  some 
degree  of  frequency,  and  has,  in  the  sight  of  all  the  world,  attend 
ed  us  here.  He  has  rode  out  with  you,  and  in  the  saloon  has 
paid  you  the  most  particular  attentions  a  gentleman  can  pay  to  a 
lady." 

"  But,  mother,  has  he  not  been  drawn  into  this  by  our  invita 
tion?  and  how  could  he  act  otherwise?" 

"  That  matters  not.  I  speak  of  his  conduct  as  it  appears  to 
others.  And,  now  he  is  gone,  he  must  remember  his  conduct 
with  some  degree  of  self-reproach.  Now,  my  child,  if  you  will 
but  follow  my  lead,  all  will  yet  be  well.  I  am  just  as  certain  of 
it,  as  though  I  saw  you,  at  this  moment,  dressed  in  all  the  splen 
dor  of  a  bride's  attire,  waiting  for  the  hour  of  your  nuptials." 

"  You  are  very  imaginative,  mother,"  said  Adela. 

"  I  wish  you  may  be  so,  too,"  said  Mrs.  Tripp.  "I  will  now 
reveal  to  you  my  plan.  We  will  remain  here  a  week  or  so,  to 
see  if  Mr.  Winterbottom  will  return.  If  he  does  not,  we  go 
back  to  Babylon.  After  reaching  home,  you  see  no  company.  I 


MRS.  TRIPP'S  PLAN  TO  RECOVER  MR.  WINTERBOTTOM.        369 

shall  see  that  he  hears  that  Adela  Tripp's  affections  are  the  cause 
of  her  sickness.  Letting  that  work  awhile,  I  will  alarm  him  by 
the  news  that  there  are  fears  entertained  that  you  will  go  into  a 
rapid  decline,  and  that  his  conduct  at  the  springs  is  the  cause  of 
it  all.  And,  too,  I  will  set  Mrs.  Van  Dam  at  work  upon  him,  and 
other  ladies  whose  sympathies  I  can  enlist.  He  sha'n't  sleep 
without  your  image  having  been  presented  to  him,  in  some  shape, 
every  day  he  lives.  In  the  meanwhile,  I  will  occasionally  meet 
him  with  all  my  usual  kindness,  and  speak,  in  sad  tones,  of  your 
feeble  state  of  health;  and  when  he  shows  signs  of  relenting,  as 
he  will  do,  he  shall  be  invited  to  the  house,  and  when  he  comes, 
it  shall  be  contrived,  that  you  shall  walk  into  the  parlor,  dressed 
in  a  charming  white  dressing-gown,  the  lamps  shall  be  shaded, 
and  starch  will  give  you  the  aspect  of  extreme  paleness.  You 
shall  appear  for  a  moment  only,  shall  offer  him  your  hand,  cold  as 
ice  water  can  make  it,  and  thank  him,  in  the  sweetest  tone,  for 
his  kindness  in  calling,  and  slowly  withdraw,  leaning  on  my  arm. 

"  A  few  such  scenes  will  do  the  business,  safely  and  surely. 
His  vanity  will  be  flattered  by  the  power  of  interesting  so  lovely 
a  girl;  and  his  pride  shall  be  addressed,  and  his  love  inflamed, 
and  you  shall  have  a  last  scene,  in  which  love  and  tenderness  will 
melt  the  ice  around  his  heart ;  for  I  assure  you,  (such  are  my 
sincerest  convictions,  from  my  knowledge  of  the  man,  and  I  have 
studied  him  well,)  I  believe  he  is  sorry,  at  this  moment,  he  has 
left  us,  and  his  home  will  never  seem  so  lonely  as  it  does  at  this 
moment,  and  he  would  gladly  wish  himself  back  again,  if  he 
knew  how  to  get  here  free  from  the  sneers  of  these  people  by 
whom  we  are  surrounded." 

"  Mother,"  said  Adela,  in  a  firm,  slow  and  measured  tone, 
"  your  plans  look  feasible;  but  a  failure  would  be  fatal  to  me.  I 
can't  consent  to  put  my  reputation  at  a  hazard  such  as  this; 
and  with  every  feeling  of  respect,  I  say  to  you,  I  can't !  and  I 
won't!"  So  saying,  this  dutiful  daughter  rose,  and  left  the  room. 


370  PETER  SCHLEMIHL. 


CHAPTER  XVI. 

A  party  of  Mexicans  arrive  at  the  springs — Scene  at  the  assembly — Adela, 
in  the  absence  of  Mr.  Winterbottom,  experiments  on  Mr.  De  Lisle — Col. 
Greenwood  and  Lieutenant  Doyle  of  the  Coldstream  Guards — Meet  Mrs. 
Smith  and  friends  at  the  ball — Adela  dances  with  Lieutenant  Doyle — The 
sage  of  Lindenwold  introduces  these  officers  to  Mrs.  Tripp  next  day  in  the 
saloon — Adela  rides  out  with  Col.  Greenwood  and  his  friend — Tete-a-tetes 
of  mothers  and  daughters  after  breakfast  at  the  springs. 

ON  the  very  day  of  Mrs.  Smith's  arrival  with  her  friends, 
there  appeared  on  the  verandah  of  the  Grand  Hotel,  where  they 
and  the  fashionables  "  most  do  congregate"  at  the  springs,  a 
party  of  four  gentlemen,  whose  air,  looks  and  mien  bespoke  them 
Spaniards.  They  were  all  under  the  usual  height.  The  elder, 
who  was  the  tallest,  was  about  fifty  years  of  age,  with  hair  black 
and  glossy.  His  eyebrows  were  heavy,  and  overhanging  an  eye 
black  as  night,  that  gleamed,  at  times,  with  a  strange  and  most 
sinister  expression,  which  was,  doubtless,  heightened  by  wearing 
in  his  right  eye  a  glass  set  in  tortoise-shell,  which  hung  around 
his  neck  by  a  black  ribbon.  His  form  was  symmetrical,  and  his 
movements  eminently  graceful  and  dignified  ;  and  his  hands  and 
feet  almost  feminine  in  size  and  shape.  The  three  young  men 
resembled  him  in  form  and  feature.  They,  too,  had  the  same  de 
licacy  of  hands  and  feet,  the  same  grace  of  movement,  and  eyes 
as  black  and  as  bright,  without  the  glance  which  sometimes  shone 
from  under  the  heavy  eyebrows  of  the  eldest  of  the  party.  They 
all  wore  dark  olive-green  frock  coats  of  a  foreign  cut,  richly  em 
broidered  ;  and  the  young  men  had  beautifully  shaped  moustaches 
and  imperials ;  the  eldest  wore  none.  He  wore  no  ornaments, 
but  the  young  men  had  the  richest  diamonds  in  their  shirt-bosoms, 
and  on  their  fingers,  which,  however,  were  only  seen  at  dinner, 
for  their  hands  were  covered  at  all  other  times,  as  the  hour  re 
quired,  in  the  most  perfect  of  yellow  or  white  Parisian  kid 
gloves. 

They  knew  no  one,  and  seemed  indifferent  to  all  around  them, 
but  walked  from  one  end  of  the  verandah  to  the  other,  sputtering 
Spanish ;  the  young  men,  who  were  between  twenty-two  and 
twenty-five  years  of  age,  now  and  then  gazed  out  of  the  corners 
of  their  eyes  at  the  ladies  as  they  passed,  though  but  few  had 


THE  MEXICANS  AT  THE  SPRINGS.  371 

the  happiness  to  know  that  they  had  been  so  distinguished  by 
the  strangers. 

After  dinner,  they  came  into  the  saloon  in  pairs,  holding  their 
hats  in  their  hands,  and  walked  around,  seeming  to  find  abundant 
subjects  for  remark  from  the  throng  by  whom  they  were  sur 
rounded. 

There  was  a  strange  interest  excited  by  the  appearance,  of 
these  Spaniards,  who  seemed  to  have  nothing  in  common  with 
the  visitors  of  the  springs  ;  and  especially  was  this  true  of  the 
Misses  Van  Dams  and  the  Van  Tromps,  who,  in  addition  to  all 
their  other  accomplishments,  were  able  to  talk  Spanish.  The  list 
of  arrivals  simply  announced — 

Don  Pedro  de  St.  Jago,  Mexico, 

Don  Juan  Ferdinando  de  St.  Jago,          " 

Don  Sebastian  Philip  de  St.  Jago,  " 

Don  Hernandez  Mendez  Pinto,  " 

But  the  mystery  was  solved  by  an  article  which  appeared  in 
the  Babylonian  Gazette,  stating  that  Don  Pedro  de  St.  Jago,  one 
of  the  richest  landed  proprietors  of  Zacatecas,  whose  mines 
yielded  a  million  annually,  with  his  sons  and  nephew,  had  re 
cently  arrived  at  New  Orleans,  and,  it  was  said,  would  make  a 
tour  through  the  States. 

This  item  of  intelligence  was  read  by  everybody,  and  gave 
these  Mexican  gentlemen  a  most  enviable  position  among  the 
elite  at  the  springs.  Many  were  the  attempts  made  to  form  their 
acquaintance,  but  as  few  could  speak  Spanish,  and  it  was  under 
stood  they  spoke  no  other  language,  the  competitors  for  this  honor 
were  necessarily  limited.  Among  these,  Eugenie  and  Lucille 
Van  Dam,  and  Katrine  Van  Tromp,  stood  in  advance  of  all  others. 
So  it  was,  that,  whenever  these  gentlemen  came  round  the  circle 
to  the  spot  where  these  interesting  ladies  stood,  they  failed  not  to 
be  engaged  in  earnest  and  lively  conversation  in  Spanish;  a  fact 
these  gentlemen  did  not  fail  to  remark,  and  recognize  by  a  smile 
and  a  bow. 

On  the  next  Wednesday  evening,  the  assembly  was  given  of 
which  Mrs.  Tripp  had  spoken,  when  the  lady  of  Bostonia  was  to 
exhibit  what  Mrs.  Tripp  had  been  pleased  to  style,  not  inappro 
priately,  her  tours  deforce. 

The  ball  was  a  splendid  one,  and  most  of  our  friends  were  pre 
sent.  Mrs.  Smith  and  Grace  sat  as  lookers-on,  attended  by  Mr. 
De  Lisle.  Adela  was  indisposed,  and  her  mother  was  necessarily 
absent.  Colonel  and  Mrs.  Worth  never  attended  assemblies. 

Until  near  midnight,  the  Mexicans  remained  quiet  spectators, 
seated  opposite  to  Mrs.  Smith,  who,  at  last,  became  nervous  at 


372  PETER  SCHLEMIHL. 

seeing  that  hateful  dark-looking  man,  looking,  as  she  said  to 
Grace,  "like  an  ogre,"  constantly  and  directly  at  her. 

After  midnight,  as  Miss  Eugenie  Van  Dam  and  her  sister,  pre 
ceded  by  their  mother,  who  was  accompanied  by  the  gentlemen 
with  whom  they  had  been  dancing,  came  promenading  down  the 
side  of  the  hall  on  which  the  Jagos,  all  dressed  in  full  ball  cos 
tume,  were  seated,  though  as  yet  they  had  made  no  movement 
toward  securing  partners  for  dancing,  the  elder  St.  Jago  now 
rose,  and  bowing  with  an  air  of  distinguished  and  respectful  con 
sideration  to  Mrs.  Van  Dam,  in  Spanish,  begged  "  the  permission 
to  solicit  for  his  sons  and  nephew  the  honor  of  an  introduction  to 
herself  and  daughters." 

Poor  Mrs.  Van  Dam  understood  as  little  of  Spanish  at  this  mo 
ment,  as  of  Low  Dutch  on  the  night  of  her  wedding,  and  would 
have  been  at  a  dead  stand  as  to  the  request  made  of  her,  had  not 
Lucille  advanced,  and  bowing  to  Don  St.  Jago,  acted  as  inter 
preter.  Mrs.  Van  Dam  smiled  and  bowed  her  acquiescence,  and 
immediately  introduced  Lucille  to  the  senior  Don,  who  took  her 
hand  in  both  of  his,  and  bowing  as  he  did  so,  addressed  her  a  few 
words  with  a  very  graceful  air,  and  turning  to  Eugenie,  went 
through  the  same  ceremony,  and  then  taking  the  hand  of  Mrs. 
Van  Dam,  bowed,  and,  through  Lucille,  expressed  his  acknow 
ledgments.  This  done,  he  presented,  in  order,  his  sons  and 
nephew  to  each  of  the  ladies.  As  Mrs.  Van  Dam  understood 
nothing  that  the  Don  could  say,  he  was  compelled  to  bow  and  ges 
ture  what  he  had  no  words  to  express.  The  young  folks,  in  the 
meanwhile,  seemed  to  Mrs.  Van  Dam  running  their  words  all 
together  in  a  string,  so  fluent  had  they  become  all  at  once,  while 
Eugenie  and  Lucille,  by  the  nutter  of  their  fans,  were  evidently 
endeavoring  to  ward  off  the  profusion  of  their  compliments.  This 
pretty  piece  of  pantomime  was  seen  in  all  its  details  by  Katrine 
Van  Tromp,  who  was  dying  to  share  in  the  honors  of  an  introduc 
tion,  especially  as  the  finest  of  the  three  young  Mexicans,  Don 
Hernandez  Mendez  Pinto,  remained  standing  unoccupied,  and  only 
occasionally  addressed  by  the  young  ladies,  who  seemed  entirely 
absorbed  by  the  Santa  Jagos.  It  was  perfectly  natural  for  Mrs. 
Van  Tromp  and  Katrine  to  be  walking  that  way,  and  to  the  great 
relief  of  Mrs.  Van  Dam,  who  beckoned  to  Katrine  to  come  to  her. 
Katrine  and  her  mother  presented  themselves,  and  Lucille  intro 
duced  the  senior  Don,  who  went  through  all  the  forms  with  his 
accustomed  gravity  and  grace,  and  presented  his  sons  and  nephew 
as  before,  which  done,  Don  Hernandez  commenced  his  demon 
strations  upon  the  fair  and  palpable  Katrine,  who  certainly  had 
the  quality  of  talking  as  fast  as  any  of  the  group,  though  she 


THE  MEXICANS  AND  VAN  DAMS.  373 

failed  in  those  little  feminine  airs,  in  which  the  Van  Dams  ex 
celled.  It  was  a  wonder  to  see  their  fans  hold  together,  so  various 
and  manifold  were  the  various  flirts  and  shuttings  up  and  throw- 
ings  open,  to  which  they  were,  for  the  first  time,  probably,  sub 
jected  ;*  and  then  the  little  mirror  in  the  side  of  Lucille's  fan,  was 
playfully  held  up  by  Lucille  to  Don  Juan  Ferdinando,  it  might  be 
that  he  should  be  frightened  with  his  own  face  after  uttering  some 
superlatively  sublime  compliment. 

All  this  while,  the  senior  Don  looked  on  and  listened  with  an 
amused,  and  (so  it  seemed  to  Mrs.  Smith,  who  sat  looking  on  from 
the  opposite  side  of  the  room),  at  times,  with  a  most  malicious 
smile  ;  and  Mrs.  Van  Dam  and  Mrs.  Van  Tromp  did  what  many 
mothers  have  done  before,  when  they  heard  their  accomplished 
daughters  gabbling  a  language  of  which  they  knew  nothing,  to 
gentlemen  ignorant  of  the  only  language  they  could  command  ; 
they  smiled,  and  strove  to  guess,  as  best  they  could,  what  was 
said  from  the  countenances  of  the  speakers.  At  length,  Don  Jago, 
senior,  led  the  mothers  to  a  sofa,  and  bowing,  took  leave  of  them, 
and  having  stopped  for  a  moment  at  the  group,  who  still  remained 
standing,  and,  doubtless,  saying  some  very  agreeable  things  to  the 
young  ladies,  took  leave  of  them  and  retired. 

So  soon  as  cotillions  were  recommenced,  the  mothers  had  the 
supreme  satisfaction  of  seeing  their  children  dance  with  the  sons 
and  nephew  of  a  man  whose  income  was  a  million  a  year,  and 
who  had  refused  "  to  dig  out  any  more  silver  than  he  could  find 
ways  to  spend." 

"  Only  think  of  it,"  said  Mrs.  Van  Tromp  ;  "Katrine  showed 
me  the  paper  which  said  so.  Don't  you  think  he  resembles  our 
ex-president,  the  Sage  of  Lindenwold?" 

"  He  has  the  same  expression  of  countenance,"  said  Mrs.  Van 
Dam,  "and  the  same  smile  and  distinguished  courtesy  of  manners; 
but  then  his  complexion  is  so  different  that  I  don't  know  it  would 
have  occurred  to  rne." 

"  You  remark  it,  when  you  see  him  in  the  saloon,"  replied 
Mrs.  Van  Tromp,  "  and  I'm  sure  you  will  see  in  his  general  bear- 

*  Mrs.  Emma  Willard,  in  her  recent  "  inspired  revelation"  on  the  "  Motive 
Powers  of  the  Heart,"  has  given  the  philosophy  of  the  fan.  She  says:  "Pos 
sibly  you  have  provided  yourself  with  a  little  instrument  invented  in  ancient 
times,  for  an  assistant  to  the  breezes.  It  lessens  the  labor  of  breathing,  and 
widens  the  range  of  temperature  by  cooling  the  surface,  while  it  supplies 
oxygen  to  the  lungs.  This  little  instrument  is  called  a  /an." — Treatise  on  the 
Motive  Powers  of  the  Heart,  p.  145. 

How  few  of  our  fashionable  ladies  ever  knew  there  lay  a  philosophical 
truth  beneath  their  fans.  It  is  to  be  hoped  they  may  be  hereafter  used  for 
their  legitimate  purpose,  and  not  to  help  to  cover  a  face  where  blushes  should 
be  and  are  not. — PETER  SCHLEMIHL. 


374  PETER  SCHLEMIHL. 

ing,  and  especially  when  he  smiles,  the  very  same  expression  of 
countenance." 

And  so  these  ladies  talked  on,  well  satisfied  with  the  success  of 
their  children,  who  seemed  every  way  pleased  with  their  partners. 
After  the  many  were  gone,  these  strangers  and  their  new  found 
friends  commenced  dancing  Spanish  dances,  and  finally  waltzed; 
and  the  step  of  Katrine  was  light  and  buoyant,  more  so  than  usual, 
and  well  it  was  so,  or  the  little  Mexican  could  hardly  have  suc 
ceeded  in  bringing  her  round  in  time,  to  keep  the  foot  fall  of  the 
waltz.  But  when  they  were  led  to  their  mothers,  though  a  little 
flushed,  they  were  evidently  exhilarated  by  the  dance ;  the  eyes 
of  the  Dons  flashed  with  light  and  looks  of  most  ardent  admiration ; 
and  if  the  young  ladies,  as  they  took  their  seats,  wore  an  air  of 
exhaustion,  it  was  because  it  better  concealed  the  little  look  of 
tenderness  they  thought  proper  to  adventure  as  an  experiment  on 
the  moods  and  tempers  of  their  new  admirers,  whose  earnest  gaze 
showed  they  came  from  the  land  of  the  sun,  and  retained  all  the 
heat  of  their  warm  climate  still  glowing  in  their  bosoms.  And 
so,  as  these  girls  took  their  seats,  the  air  of  fatigue  was  assumed 
with  a  most  lovely  recklessness,  which  was  quite  pleasant  to  be 
hold,  and  won  looks  of  burning  admiration  from  these  passionate 
Mexicans.  The  mothers  thought  it  best  to  break  in  upon  this 
scene,  lest  too  much  progress  should  be  made  in  one  short  evening  ; 
for  it  must  be  confessed  they  had  not  the  same  satisfaction  in  hear 
ing  their  daughters  addressed  by  strange  gentlemen,  of  whom 
they  knew  nothing,  in  a  strange  language  of  which  they  knew 
less.  The  Dons  escorted  them  to  the  door  of  the  ball-room,  and 
stood  in  the  entry,  bowing  and  kissing  their  adieus,  till  the  ladies 
had  reached  the  top  of  the  stairs,  when  Katrine  kissed  her  hand 
to  them,  an  example  Lucille  and  Eugenie  did  not  fail  to  follow, 
and  so  they  disappeared  to  their  respective  rooms,  as  delighted 
with  their  Dons,  as  their  Dons  could  by  any  possibility  be  with 
them. 

From  this  time  onward  the  youngladies  were  assiduously  escorted 
by  these  Dons ;  the  senior  Don  being  left  very  much  alone,  seemed 
to  have  little  else  to  do  than  to  gaze  with  his  ogre  eye  upon  Mrs. 
Smith.  He  fastened  his  eye  upon  her  the  moment  she  entered 
the  room  where  he  chanced  to  be,  or  to  enter.  To  Mrs.  Smith  it 
seemed  the  look  of  a  basilisk,  and  she  found  herself,  in  spite  of 
her  fixed  purpose,  looking  at  him  ;  and  whenever  she  did  so,  there 
was  he,  with  his  eye-glass  looking  straight  towards  her.  As  for 
Grace,  she  shrunk  back  whenever  one  of  these  "  demons,"  as  she 
called  them,  came  near  her,  and  looked  askance  into  her  fair  face. 

As  these  strangers  occupied  a  cottage  beyond  their  own,  they 
and  their  servants  (all  dark  and  grim  as  so  many  banditti),  were 


HERNANDEZ  MENDEZ  PINTO  AND  KATRINE.  375 

constantly  passing  and  repassing,  and  Mrs.  Smith  never  could  put 
her  foot  upon  the  verandah  on  her  way  to  the  saloon  or  returning 
from  it,  but  she  was  sure  to  meet  the  elder  Jago,  who  bowed  to 
her  and  smiled,  a  cold  sinister  smile  it  was,  as  he  passed,  till  it  be 
came  a  matter  of  serious  annoyance,  of  which  she  was  conscious, 
but  of  which  she  never  ventured  to  speak  until  Grace  and  her 
self,  finding  themselves  at  the  same  moment  the  object  of  this 
hateful  scrutiny,  retired  by  the  same  impulse,  and  each  spoke  of 
their  uncomfortable  emotions,  from  being  under  the  constant  super 
vision  of  this  hateful  Mexican. 

Don  Hernandez  Mendez  Pinto  was  especially  attentive  to  Ka 
trine  Van  Tromp.  He  was  extremely  communicative,  and  from 
Katrine,  Mrs.  Smith  learned  the  vastness  of  the  estates  of  the 
Jagos, — the  splendor  of  his  palace,  and  of  his  own  chateau  at 
Sombrero.  Indeed,  Katrine  could  talk  of  nothing  else,  and  it  was 
evident  her  imagination  was  completely  filled  with  the  magni 
ficence  of  Don  Hernandez,  and  the  loveliness  and  splendors  of 
equatorial  skies.  She  even  forgot  to  sneer  at  Adela  Tripp,  who 
in  times  past  was  sure  to  be  served  up  at  every  call. 

Nor  were  the  young  Misses  Van  Dams  less  absorbed  by  their 
admirers,  though  they  had  much  more  prudence  than  Katrine; 
but  it  was  evident  they  had  no  wish  beyond  the  satisfaction  they 
derived  from  the  assiduous  attentions  of  these  Jagos,  who  seemed 
every  day  gaining  ground  in  the  esteem  of  their  mothers,  who 
even  now  had  assumed  the  office  of  teachers  of  English  to  the 
young  men,  who,  from  all  appearances,  were  destined  at  no  distant 
day  to  become  their  very  dear  sons-in-law.  Their  progress  was 
not  very  rapid,  to  be  sure,  and  they  evidently  took  much  more  plea 
sure  in  talking  to  the  daughters,  than  receiving  lessons  from  the 
mothers,  which  is  no  uncommon  circumstance,  as  most  mothers 
can  testify. 

*  *  *  7-C  * 

We  will  now  return  to  Miss  Adela  Tripp.  She  was  not  long 
in  discovering  that  she  had  a  rival  in  her  hopes  upon  De  Lisle  in 
Grace  Worth,  whose  influence,  she  had  reason  to  fear,  would 
render  all  her  arts  powerless. 

Grace,  with  native  modesty,  shrunk  from  the  attentions  paid  to 
her  on  all  hands.  As  the  only  daughter  of  Col.  Worth,  she  was 
much  sought  after.  Her  father's  friends  were  numerous,  and  they 
all  were  pleased  to  make  Grace's  acquaintance,  who  had  now  made 
her  first  appearance  at  the  springs.  Still  she  rarely  left  her 
mother's  side,  and  never  walked  unattended  by  her  ifather,  her 
mother,  or  Mrs.  Smith.  With  Mrs.  Smith  she  was  on  familiar 
terms,  but  with  no  one  else.  With  the  Van  Dams,  and  all  of 
that  set,  she  cultivated  no  other  intercourse  than  such  as  the 


376  PETER  SCHLEMIHL. 

common  forms  of  society  required.  The  attentions  of  Mr.  De  Lisle 
were  always  met  with  politeness,  but  with  great  timidity. 

Adela  saw  that  Mr.  De  Lisle's  eyes  followed  Grace,  when  his 
footsteps  did  not.  That  he  became  another  being,  so  soon  as 
Grace  made  her  appearance,  and  seemed  unconscious  of  any  at 
tractions  but  those  possessed  by  this  sweet  girl.  And  yet  it 
seemed  strange  to  Adela,  that  he  offered  Grace  so  little  of  direct 
attentions.  He  rather  courted  the  society  of  her  mother,  or  Mrs. 
Smith ;  but  she  soon  discovered  that  he  sought  the  one  who 
chanced  to  be  in  company  with  Grace,  and  though  he  never 
walked  by  the  side  of  Grace,  he  constantly  addressed  his  remarks 
to  her  by  his  eyes,  if  not  by  his  language.  This  demanded  no 
reply  from  Grace,  who  never  failed  to  listen  with  absorbed  atten 
tion  to  whatever  he  said. 

"It  is  very  strange,"  thought  Adela ;  "  I  will  try  if  the  charrn 
is  in  the  mother,  or  Mrs.  Smith,  or  in  this  girl ;"  and  so  she  made 
herself  very  agreeable  to  Grace,  and  contrived  to  detach  her  from 
her  friends  by  asking  her  to  take  morning  walks  with  her,  and 
she  soon  found  herself  attended  by  Mr.  De  Lisle,  who  still  followed 
the  plan  of  talking  exclusively  with  her,  Grace  only  helping  out 
the  conversation  with  inquiries,  evincing  even  to  Adela,  a  range 
of  knowledge  of  which  she  found  herself  ignorant ;  for  the  topics 
usually  were  those  of  morals  or  science,  and  a  higher  range  of 
literature  than  she  had  ever  heard  of.  These  inquiries  of  Grace 
were  made  at  the  proper  point,  and  led  to  a  wider  range  of  re 
mark,  and  Adela  admired  acquisitions  she  did  not  possess.  All 
this  while  Adela  experimented  upon  Mr.  De  Lisle  in  her  sweetest 
looks  of  admiration,  but  they  glanced  from  him  as  if  he  had  been 
a  statue  of  ice. 

Mrs.  Tripp  was  not  unoccupied.  Still  hoping  Mr.  Winter- 
bottom  would  reappear,  she  restrained  Adela  all  she  could  from 
the  saloon,  and  compelled  her  to  refuse  a  dozen  invitations  to  the 
ball  at  which  the  Van  Dams  and  Katrine  Van  Tromp  had  made 
their  splendid  conquests.  Mrs.  Tripp  was  greatly  annoyed  by 
the  attentions  she  was  compelled  to  pay  Miss  Flora  Goodenough, 
who  certainly  evinced  a  great  partiality  for  the  very  amusing 
Mrs.  Tripp.  As  for  Adela,  she  showed  her  innocence  of  her 
mother's  management,  by  resolutely  refusing  either  to  call  on 
Miss  Flora,  or  to  permit  her  mother's  introducing  Flora  to  the 
honor  of  her  acquaintance,  and  Mrs.  Tripp  was  compelled  to  in 
sist  Adela  should  not  be  in  the  saloon,  as  the  only  way  of  escape. 
All  this  added  no  little  to  Mrs.  Tripp's  perplexities,  and  made 
the  imprisonment  of  Adela  imperatively  necessary ;  who  com 
pensated  herself  by  attaching  herself  almost  exclusively  to  the 
Worth  party,  especially  to  Grace,  to  whom  she  made  herself  very 


ARRIVAL  OF  COL.  GREENWOOD  AND  LIEUTENANT  DOYLE.      377 

interesting1,  and  they  practised  together  by  the  hour,  sure  of  hav 
ing  Mr.  De  Lisle  sitting  beside  the  piano  as  a  most  untiring  list 
ener.  Happily  for  poor  Mrs.  Tripp,  she  was  soon  relieved  by 
the  departure  of  Captain  Townly  and  his  niece,  and  Jack  Mu- 
sard,  who  returned  to  the  city. 

While  our  friends  were  thus  occupied,  there  appeared  a 
young  Irishman,  and  his  companion  and  friend,  a  gentleman  of 
very  fine  appearance,  wearing  large  whiskers,  and  in  the  undress 
uniform  of  the  British  army.  The  Irishman  was  a  dashing 
heels-over-head  fellow,  with  a  bright  blue  eye,  full  of  fun,  and  a 
face  of  the  purest  red  and  white.  His  laugh  was  the  most  catch 
ing  that  ever  was  heard,  and  his  manners,  while  they  were  free, 
bore  the  marks  of  high  finish.  He  was  indeed  "an  Irish  gentle 
man  !"  The  day  after  their  appearance,  four  beautiful  horses,  led 
by  two  servants  in  undress  uniform  of  the  British  army,  appeared 
before  the  door.  There  they  stood,  the  objects  of  universal  ad 
miration,  and  the  guesses  as  to  whom  they  belonged,  were  solved 
by  these  strangers  riding  them  away,  accompanied  by  their  serv 
ants.  Now,  of  these  arrivals,  Adela  and  Mrs.  Tripp,  so  great 
had  been  their  seclusion  for  a  day  or  two,  knew  nothing.  A  ball 
was  to  lake  place,  and  Mr.  De  Lisle  had  invited  Mrs.  Tripp  and 
Adela  to  accompany  Mrs.  Smith  and  Grace,  and  under  such  coun 
tenance,  Adela  insisted  on  going.  Mrs.  Tripp  was  compelled  to 
acquiesce.  She  warned  Adela  not  to  dance,  and  to  wear  a  pen 
sive  aspect;  but  Adela  would  make  no  promises  on  that  score  ; 
and  after  long  discussion,  carried  on  with  more  spirit  than  humor, 
they  separated  to  make  ready  for  the  evening.  Adela  thought 
if  there  was  any  superiority  she  was  possessed  of  over  Grace,  it 
was  in  her  fine  fashionable  exterior,  and  so  she  determined  to 
make  the  most  of  it,  and  dressed  herself  accordingly. 

Adela  saw  for  the  first  time,  the  grand  entrance  of  the  Van 
Dams  and  Van  Tromps,  and  their  Mexicans.  She  sat  looking  on 
with  wonder  at  the  perfect  understanding  which  seemed  subsist 
ing ;  the  exclusiveness  of  their  attentions;  and  the  absorbed  and 
gratified  air  with  which  all  these  attentions  were  received.  She 
spoke  of  it  to  Mrs.  Smith,  who  gave  her  an  amusing  account  of 
the  introduction,  and  Adela  expressed  her  astonishment  that  mat 
ters  should  have  progressed  so  rapidly  during  the  few  days  she 
had  been  imprisoned  in  her  own  room. 

While  they  were  thus  speaking,  Adela's  eyes  were  riveted  by 
the  entrance  of  our  young  Irishman  in  all  the  magnificence  of  his 
brilliant  undress  uniform.  His  companion's  dress  indicated  that 
he,  too,  was  an  officer.  They  walked  the  room,  the  elder  of  the  two 
quiet  and  cold  in  his  demeanor,  which  was  strongly  in  contrast 
with  the  excited  and  admiring  looks  of  the  Irishman,  who  seemed 


378  PETER  SCHLEMIHL. 

perfectly  charmed  with  the  beauty  on  all  sides  of  the  hall.  They 
took  their  stand  not  far  from  where  Mrs.  Smith  and  her  party  sat. 
The  dancing  commenced,  and  they  remained  spectators.  If  the 
face  of  the  Irishman  invited  the  approach  of  those  who  had  a 
superabundance  of  ladies  to  provide  for,  the  cold  and  distant 
aspect  of  his  friend  inspired  a  fear  of  a  repulse ;  and  so  they 
were  left  to  be  the  lookers-on  of  the  gay  groups. 

From  those  dancing,  the  attention  of  the  young  Irishman  was 
attracted  to  those  who  were  seated,  and  became  riveted  upon  the 
sofa,  on  which  were  sitting  three  ladies  so  beautiful,  and  wearing 
an  air  so  eminently  distingue  as  Mrs.  Smith,  Adela,  and  Grace, 
who  were  attended  by  but  one  gentleman,  Mr.  De  Lisle,  who  for 
once  was  devoting  all  his  time  to  Grace,  leaving  the  other  two 
ladies  to  amuse  themselves. 

Adela,  having  nothing  to  interest  her  so  much  as  these  strange 
officers,  had  her  eyes  fixed  upon  them  the  instant  the  younger 
seemed  making  an  earnest  request  of  his  companion.  Their  looks 
were  now  turned  toward  them,  and  Miss  Adela  found  something 
very  pertinent  to  say  to  Mrs.  Smith,  which  admitted  of  her  ges 
ticulating  very  gracefully,  and  giving  a  gay  laugh  at  the  close. 

So  soon  as  the  cotillion  was  over,  and  before  a  new  set  was  made 
up  to  take  the  floor,  these  two  gentlemen  advanced  to  the  sofa, 
and,  after  bowing  profoundly  to  Mrs.  Smith  and  the  ladies,  the 
elder,  in  a  very  fine  manly  tone,  with  an  English  fullness  of  enun 
ciation,  addressed  himself  to  Mrs.  Smith. 

"Madam,  we  here  happen  to  be  strangers  to  all  present.  My 
young  friend,  Lieutenant  Doyle,  of  Her  Majesty's  Guards,  has  in 
sisted  upon  my  taking  so  great  a  liberty  as  to  present  him.  He  de 
sires  the  pleasure  of  your  permission  to  invite  one  of  these  fair 
friends  of  yours  to  dance  with  him."  Lieutenant  Doyle  now  put 
himself  in  position,  as  military  men  say,  and  the  result  was  that 
Colonel  Greenwood  and  Lieutenant  Doyle  became  known  to  each 
of  the  party;  the  lieutenant  led  Adela  to  the  floor,  and  Colonel  Green 
wood  took  the  seat  she  had  vacated  beside  Mrs.  Smith.  His  address 
was  quiet,  unostentatious,  and  yet  it  was  so  agreeable,  that  it  won 
even  the  attention  of  Grace  away  from  Mr.  De  Lisle ;  but  with 
such  admirable  discretion  did  he  conduct  the  conversation,  that 
soon  every  member  of  the  party  was  made  to  take  their  share  in 
it.  If  his  looks  could  be  interpreted,  he  was  at  a  loss  which  most 
to  admire,  the  attractive  and  spirited  lady,  or  the  timid  and  beau 
tiful  girl  at  her  side. 

Mrs.  Tripp,  who  was  sitting  on  the  opposite  side  of  the  room, 
with  Mrs.  Van  Tromp,  had  just  begun  to  open  the  story  of  Adela's 
sorrow,  the  reason  of  her  seclusion  from  society,  and  the  cause  of 
her  pensiveness,  when  she  was  stopped  short  by  observing  what 


LIEUTENANT  DOYLE  AND  ADELA.  379 

was  going  on;  she  would  have  arrested  her  child  if  it  had  been 
possible,  but  it  was  too  late;  Adela  was  on  her  way  to  her  set, 
under  the  escort  of  this  young  officer,  and  she  was  compelled  to 
bite  her  lip,  and  select  some  other  subject  of  conversation  with 
Mrs.  Van  Tromp. 

Adela  danced  with  a  joyousness  of  manner  admirably  suited  to 
the  buoyancy  of  her  partner.  They  attracted  the  attention  and 
admiration  of  the  room,  and  from  dancing  they  went  to  waltzing, 
and  Adela  found  her  partner  even  excelled  the  heretofore  inimi 
table  Jack  Musard. 

Adela  was  led  to  a  seat  by  Doyle  near  Mrs.  Smith,  and  seat 
ing  himself  beside  her,  he  conversed  with  all  imaginable  fluency. 
His  remarks  were  frequently  so  amusing  as  to  convulse  the  lady 
with  laughter;  and  so  the  evening  passed  away  with  a  joyousness 
which  but  little  fitted  her  for  the  premature  decline  which  awaited 
her  in  Babylon;  and  as  the  idea  occurred  to  Adela  as  she  was 
disrobing  herself,  she  astonished  her  maid,  by  bursting  into  long 
fits  of  laughter.  "No!"  thought  Adela,  "if  I  die,  it  will  be  of 
laughing  at  Doyle.  Was  there  ever  so  amusing  a  fellow!" 

Her  mother  was  not  so  well  pleased  with  the  events  of  the  pre 
ceding  evening  as  was  Miss  Adela,  and  in  the  morning,  read  her 
a  lecture  upon  the  extreme  impropriety  of  her  conduct,  in  dancing 
and  conversing  with  a  gentleman  of  whom  she  knew  nothing. 
Adela  replied  she  was  sure  he  was  a  gentleman,  and  begged  her 
mother  to  wait  awhile  before  she  condemned  her  conduct,  and 
ringing  for  her  maid,  sent  for  the  morning  papers  of  the  week, 
and  showed  her  mother,  with  an  air  of  triumph,  in  the  list  of 
arrivals,  the  names  of — 

Lt.  Col.  Greenwood,  Coldstream  Guards,  Quebec. 

Lieut.  Frederick  Doyle,  "  " 

"There!  mother,  look  for  yourself,"  said  Adela. 

"What  does  this  prove,  you  simpleton!"  replied  her  mother. 
"They  are  doubtless  a  couple  of  gamblers  who  come  here  to 
plunder  their  dupes  at  the  springs." 

Adela  held  to  her  convictions,  and  as  she  entered  the  saloon 
from  the  breakfast  table,  was  delighted  to  see  Colonel  Greenwood 
and  Lieutenant  Doyle,  engaged  in  conversation  with  the  Sage 
of  Lindenwold,  who  was  the  lion  of  the  day  at  the  springs.  The 
ex-presideni  took  especial  notice  of  these  gentlemen,  and  Lieu 
tenant  Doyle,  seeing  Adela  and  her  mother  seated  on  a  sofa, 
instantly  addressed  himself  to  the  ex-president,  whose  attention 
was  now  turned  to  Adela  and  her  mother,  to  whom  he  had  been 
introduced  by  Mr.  Winterbottom,  on  his  arrival,  and  had  fre 
quently  availed  himself  of  the  opportunity  to  pay  Adela  especial 


PETER  SCHLEMIHL. 


attention;  for  he  was  a  man  to  acknowledge  and  bow  to  the 
supremacy  of  beauty. 

He  led  the  gentlemen  towards  Mrs.Tripp,and  asked  permission 
to  present  Colonel  Greenwood  and  Lieutenant  Doyle  of  the  British 
army,  to  the  honor  of  their  acquaintance.  Mrs.  Tripp  received 
the  introduction  in  a  most  gracious  manner,  and  Colonel  Green 
wood  took  a  seat  beside  her,  while  Doyle  seated  himself  beside 
Adela. 

Colonel  Greenwood  was  a  handsome  man,  and  though  cold  in 
his  demeanor,  his  manners  wore  all  the  marks  of  haut-monde. 
Mrs.  Tripp  was  pleased  to  see  the  Van  Dams  and  Van  Tromps 
grouped  together  watching  her  success,  which,  she  was  sure,  was 
a  source  of  surprise  and  annoyance  to  them.  As  for  Adela,  she 
was  delighted  with  Doyle;  his  humor  was  unfailing  and  his  ad 
miration  unbounded,  and  her  frequent  fits  of  laughter  showed  her 
dear  friends,  on  the  other  side  of  the  room,  that  Doyle  must  be  a 
most  amusing  companion,  and  who  contrasted  in  this  respect  invi 
diously  with  their  Mexican  beaux. 

The  same  day,  while  waiting  for  the  Worth  party  in  the  saloon, 
to  go  with  them  into  the  dining-hall,  Colonel  Greenwood  and 
Lieutenant  Doyle  joined  them.  It  so  happened  that  their  friends 
were  out  riding,  and  were  late  in  returning,  and  Mrs.  Tripp 
and  Adela  found  themselves  alone  in  the  saloon.  Mrs.  Tripp's 
frequent  looks  toward  the  door,  showed  they  were  waiting 
for  some  one,  and  Colonel  Greenwood  politely  asked  of  her  the 
privilege  of  seating  her  at  the  table,  which  she  thought  best  to 
accept.  Doyle  was  not  slow  to  follow  the  example  of  his  colo 
nel,  and  Mrs.  Tripp  was  amply  repaid  for  her  delay,  by  being 
led  in  by  Colonel  Greenwood,  who,  having  seated  Mrs.  Tripp,  and 
seeing  a  seat  vacant  next  her,  asked  her  permission  to  take  it,  to 
which  she  readily  acceded,  and  Doyle,  without  the  same  for 
mula,  installed  himself  beside  Adela. 

All  this  was  delightful,  even  to  Mrs.  Tripp;  though  she  had 
her  misgivings  as  to  its  effect  upon  her  ulterior  plans.  Still  the 
attention  of  the  colonel  of  the  "crack  regiment"  of  the  British 
army  was  not  to  be  slighted,  and  it  could,  after  all,  make  not 
much  difference,  and  so  she  gave  herself  up  to  the  practice  of  all 
the  arts  of  pleasing  of  which  she  was  possessed. 

During  the  days  following,  Colonel  Greenwood  and  Lieutenant 
Doyle  availed  themselves  of  their  introduction  to  Mrs.  Tripp,  to 
become  acquainted  with  Colonel  Worth  and  wife  and  Grace,  and 
Mrs.  Smith  and  Mr.  De  Lisle,  and  especially  was  the  colonel  at 
tracted  by  the  sweet  and  lovely  aspect  of  Grace.  His  attentions 
were  always  relinquished  at  the  proper  time  and  place.  His 
only  object  seemed  to  please  and  be  pleased,  and  it  came  to 


COLONEL  GREENWOOD.  381 

be  a  matter  of  course  for  him  to  take  his  station  beside  Grace, 
whenever  she  sought  the  verandah  or  the  saloon  for  promenading 
after  dinner.  His  seat  at  the  table  brought  him  opposite  Mrs. 
Smith,  and  his  conversational  powers  seemed  always  in  pleasant 
exercise,  when  addressing  himself  to  Mrs.  Worth,  or  Mrs.  Smith, 
or  to  Grace.  His  address  was  at  all  times  quiet  and  unpretending, 
and  yet  so  agreeable,  that  he  became  identified  with  the  Worth 
party  in  all  their  excursions.  Mr.  De  Lisle  and  himself  seemed 
especially  suited  for  each  other's  society,  and  the  topics  of  con 
versation  introduced  by  them,  were  at  the  same  time  agreeable 
and  instructive  to  Grace,  while  it  gave  play  to  the  wit  and  varied 
acquisitions  of  Mrs.  Worth,  and  the  playfulness  of  Mrs.  Smith. 
As  for  Doyle,  he  concentrated  all  his  powers  of  pleasing  upon 
Adela,  to  the  great  annoyance  of  her  mother,  who  strove  in  vain 
to  keep  him  at  arm's  length.  But  Irishmen,  especially  if  they 
are  young  and  handsome  and  accomplished,  are  famous  for  get 
ting  on  in  the  world,  and  Doyle  was  a  fair  specimen  of  their  suc 
cess.  All  that  Mrs.  Tripp  could  do  was  to  keep  Adela  out  of  the 
saloon,  and  at  home  in  her  own  parlor;  but  this  suited  Doyle 
and  Adela,  for  they  were  all  the  world  to  each  other. 

One  morning,  soon  after  the  ball,  Colonel  Greenwood's  fine 
horses  were  at  the  door,  held  by  his  servants,  and  attracted  the 
attention  of  the  gentlemen  by  their  fine  points,  and  that  of  the 
ladies,  by  the  sight  of  a  side  saddle,  placed  on  the  most  beautiful 
of  the  four  horses.  "  Who  could  be  the  successful  lady  ?"  said 
the  young  ladies  to  each  other;  "what  lady  will  ride  out  with 
these  strangers  ?"  said  the  mothers,  who  well  knew  their  daughters 
were  not  the  favored  fair. 

The  mystery  was  soon  to  be  solved.  Colonel  Greenwood  and 
Lieutenant  Doyle  were  waiting  for  Adela  to  appear  in  her 
mother's  parlor,  where  the  Worths,  and  Mr.  De  Lisle,  and  Mrs. 
Smith,  were  also  waiting  her  coming,  to  see  them  off.  As  Adela 
came  in,  accompanied  by  her  mother,  the  colonel's  look  told  her 
she  was  admired,  and  Doyle  swore  outright  she  was  a  divinity  ! 
Mrs.  Tripp  was  too  much  gratified  to  look  beyond  the  moment. 
And  Adela  made  her  appearance  on  the  verandah,  accompanied 
by  all  her  friends.  Mrs.  Tripp  saw  her  seated,  and  the  Van 
Dams  and  Van  Tromps,  at  their  posts  of  observation,  looking  dag 
gers  at  her  dear  Adela,  whom,  it  must  be  confessed,  never  looked 
so  enchantingly.  Bowing  gracefully  to  their  friends,  the  party 
rode  away. 

The  groups  on  the  verandah  now  dispersed,  the  gentlemen  to 
nine-pin  alleys  and  billiard-rooms,  and  the  ladies  to  their  rooms, 
to  read  a  new  novel,  but  most  to  gape  and  yawn,  and  say,  "  What 


382  PETER  SCHLEMIHL. 

a  stupid  place  these  springs  are  !"  How  exceedingly  weary  it 
is  to  live  only  to  eat  and  kill  time. 

Some  young  ladies  sat  down  to  elaborate  letters  to  their  lovers, 
or  those  who  had  none  such,  wrote  letters  to  absent  friends,  and 
all  the  mothers  to  look  into  the  trunks,  for  the  dresses  to  be  worn  at 
dinner  and  in  the  evening.  At  such  times  it  is  usual  for  such 
criticisms  to  be  made  for  the  especial  edification  of  their  girls. 

"  My  dear,"  said  a  Mrs.  Upshot,  to  her  daughter,  who  was 
lying  on  the  bed  reading,  "  you  have  spoiled  this  muslin  dress  ; 
it  is  torn  in  twenty  places.  Where  can  you  have  been  ?" 

The  daughter,  turning  over  on  her  elbow,  with  all  manner  of 
indifference,  said,  "  it  must  have  been  torn  when  walking  in  the 
fields,  yesterday  morning." 

"  Walking  in  the  fields!  and  with  whom,  child,  and  where  ?" 

"  I'm  sure  I  don't  know  where  it  was  ;  but  I  was  walking  with 
Mr.  Fontleroy,  and  we  thought  we  would  make  a  short  cut  of  it 
across  the  fields,  and  there  were  hundreds  of  strawberry  vines  in. 
our  way,  and  so  every  now  and  then  my  dress  caught." 

"My  child,  I  am  surprised  at  you.  This  Mr.  Fomleroy  is 
nobody,  and  never  will  be  anybody,  and  yet  you  take  morning 
walks  with  him,  and  promenade  with  him,  and  dance  with  him." 

"  That's  all  true,  mother,"  replied  the  girl,  languidly.  "  He  is 
nobody,  and  I  don't  believe  he  ever  will  be.  He's  lazy,  and  reck 
less,  and  all  that  sort  of  thing.  But  you  see,  mother,  I  don't  like 
to  stand  by  the  wall,  holding  up  the  pilasters ;  I  never  was  fond 
of  wall  flowers,  they  always  have  a  stiff'  appearance,  and  look 
like  prisoners  ;  nor  do  I  love  to  resemble  them.  Fontleroy  seems 
willing  to  lend  me  his  arm,  and  I  am  glad  to  take  it.  If  there 
was  anybody  here  to  take  his  place,  I  could  shake  him  off  at  ease ; 
he  understands  that,  and  as  it  is,  I  can't  do  better.  And  so  upon 
the  whole,  I  think  you  ought  to  be  perfectly  well  satisfied." 

I  presume,  if  walls  would  be  so  kind  as  to  speak,  as  well  as  to 
listen,  there  would  be  every  variety  of  such  conversations  re 
peated.  These  mothers  are  not  pleased  with  anything.  They 
complain  of  their  children  for  the  acquaintances  they  make,  for 
the  attentions  they  receive,  for  the  dresses  they  spoil,  and  ten 
thousand  such  like  sources  of  disquiet.  And,  too,  their  rooms  are 
small,  intensely  hot,  and  most  miserably  furnished.  They  speak 
of  their  spacious  rooms  at  home,  their  bath,  and  all  the  luxuries 
they  have  left  behind,  in  contrast  with  the  mere  closets,  in  which 
they  are  all  but  compelled  to  spend  twelve  to  fourteen  hours  of 
the  twenty-four.  And  so  it  was  on  the  morning  of  Adela's  ride ; 
her  happiness  was  the  cause  of  much  discontent  in  many  quarters. 
But  the  decrees  of  fashion  are  imperative,  and  the  "  upper  ten 


MR.  DE  LISLE  AND  GRACE  WORTH.  383 

thousand"  must  submit  to  the  banishment  of  all  home  comforts,  or 
lose  their  position  in  fashionable  life. 

We  must  now  be  permitted  to  go  back  a  little  in  our  narrative, 
that  the  position  of  the  parties  whom  we  have  introduced  to  our 
readers,  may  be  the  better  understood. 


CHAPTER  XVII. 

Development  of  the  attachment  of  Mr.  De  Lisle  for  Grace,  and  of  matters 
between  Lieutenant  Doyle  and  Adela — Scenes  in  Mrs.  Tripp's  back  par 
lor — Danger  of  playing  duets  for  four  hands — Results  in  the  case  of  Lieu 
tenant  Doyle — Mrs.  Smith's  evenings  "  at  home''  described — Mrs.  Smith  re 
lates  to  Grace  and  De  Lisle  her  vision  of  the  Gentleman  in  Black — The 
"  Enigma  of  Life"  discussed  by  Mrs.  Smith  and  her  friends — Character  of 
Grace  Worth — Misery  of  man  shown  by  his  pursuits — Lieutenant  Doyle 
proposes  to  elope  with  Adela,  who  makes  her  mother  acquainted  with 
their  plans — Mrs.  Tripp's  last  interview  with  Adela  on  the  night  previous — 
Adela's  letter  to  her  parents — Mrs.  Tripp's  parting  advice — Scenes  at  Mrs. 
Tripp's  on  the  next  morning. 

MRS.  SMITH'S  party,  our  readers  will  remember,  was  given  on 
the  night  of  the  1st  of  December.  During  the  progress  of  her 
recovery,  she  was  pleased  to  witness  the  development  of  the  attach 
ment  of  De  Lisle  for  Grace  Worth,  of  which  she  had  discovered, 
perhaps,  the  first  inspiration. 

There  seemed  a  sort  of  instinct  which  brought  them  together, 
of  which  they  were  themselves  unconscious.  Grace  was  exceed 
ingly  timid  in  the  presence  of  Mr.  De  Lisle,  and  Mrs.  Smith  ob 
served  that  her  vivacity  was  repressed  the  moment  he  made  his 
appearance;  and  loving  her  as  she  did,  it  vexed  her  to  see  how 
few  of  the  admirable  qualities  she  possessed,  could  be  seen  by 
him.  And  yet,  it  was  evident  that  Mr.  De  Lisle  preferred  the 
society  of  Grace  to  all  the  ladies  whom  he  met  at  her  evening 
parties,  when  a  dozen  or  two  of  friends  came  in  to  see  her;  for 
she  had  established  it  as  a  rule,  to  be  "  at  home"  to  a  select 
circle  (in  all  about  fifty)  of  her  friends,  on  every  Tuesday  and 
Friday  evening.  This  arrangement  was  made  with  the  approba- 


384  PETER  SCHLEMIHL. 

tion  of  her  husband,  and  the  advice  of  her  physician,  and  supplied 
her  with  as  much  society  as  she  could  well  receive.  As  for  giv 
ing  parties,  or  going  to  them,  Doctor  Herpin  said,  it  was  not  to  be 
thought  of  at  present. 

By  degrees,  there  congregated  at  her  house,  sometimes  twenty, 
and  sometimes  more,  of  these  selected  friends.  Some,  on  their 
way  to  a  party,  dropped  in  to  spend  an  hour,  and  others,  in  re 
turning  from  the  opera,  the  concert,  or  the  church,  called  in  on 
their  way  home ;  and  among  them,  Mr.  De  Lisle  and  Grace,  by 
her  special  and  oft-repeated  request,  usually  spent  the  entire  even 
ing  with  her. 

Her  rooms  were  always  cheerful,  and  her  guests  were  permit 
ted  to  come  and  go  without  ceremony.  Those  who  remained  till 
the  close  of  the  evening,  were  served  with  a  cup  of  coffee  or  cho 
colate  and  refreshments,  which  left  their  dreams  undisturbed.  For 
those  who  loved  a  game  of  whist,  there  were  card-tables  in  the 
library;  those  who  played  chess  had  in  the  corners  of  her  parlors 
chessmen  and  boards,  and  so  admirably  were  these  social  parties 
managed,  that  none  who  were  admitted  to  these  pleasant  reunions, 
willingly  omitted  to  spend  an  hour  or  two  with  Mrs.  Smith  on 
these  evenings.  Here,  too,  those  who  loved  music  were  sure  to 
find  themselves  gratified  by  the  talents  of  her  fair  friends,  for 
though  Mrs.  Smith  could  neither  play  nor  sing,  she  knew  how  to 
task  those  who  did  ;  and  thus  amusements  and  conversation  were 
delightfully  interchanged,  and  all  found  themselves  permitted  to 
pursue  the  course  which  their  tastes  and  predilections  prompted. 

Mrs.  Smith,  whose  eye  was  everywhere,  knew  how  to  group 
her  guests  as  was  best  adapted  to  promote  the  pleasure  of  all,  with 
a  tact  un perceived  by  those  who  most  needed  her  aid.  Her  own 
conversational  powers  shone  forth  in  setting  on  foot  those  topics 
with  which  her  friends  were  best  acquainted,  and  in  which  she 
knew  they  could  best  amuse  and  instruct  her  circle.  And  gentle 
men  went  home  delighted,  they  hardly  knew  why,  but  they  felt 
they  had  been  felicitous  and  agreeable,  but  did  not  divine  the  skill 
by  which  they  had  been  made  to  shine.  These  arts  of  society 
came  to  Mrs.  Smith  almost  without  effort,  and  Mr.  Smith  saw, 
with  admiration,  the  talents  evinced  by  his  wife.  He  wondered 
at  himself,  that  he  had  been  so  long  unconscious  of  her  worth. 
She  seemed  a  new  creation,  and  he  reproached  himself  with  the 
reflection  of  the  long  years  which  had  passed  without  any  other 
intercourse  than  was  called  forth  by  the  mere  details  of  domestic 
life.  Her  various  acquirements  were  as  new  to  him  as  to  his 
friends.  There  was  no  envy  in  all  this,  but  tender  regret,  that 
while  his  wife  had  been  thrown  upon  her  own  resources  for 


MRS.  SMITH'S  "EVENINGS  AT  HOME."  385 

amusement  and  information,  he  had  permitted  himself  to  be  com 
pletely  absorbed  by  the  one  pursuit  of  money  making;. 

Mrs.  Smith's  happiness  now  seemed  to  her  as  perfect  as  this 
life  could  make  it.  The  renewed  love  of  her  husband  was  a 
constant,  daily-renewed,  and  unspeakably  delightful  source  of 
heartfelt  happiness.  She  saw  his  love  and  admiration  in  every 
act,  and  manifested  in  every  inflection  of  his  voice;  and  there  was 
a  fullness  of  joy  she  had  deemed  herself  incapable  of,  in  the  con 
sciousness  of  his  increasing  love  and  esteem.  Every  journey  or 
engagement  which  took  him  away  from  home,  was  now  a  subject 
of  his  regret,  and  his  return  was  looked  for  and  welcomed  with  a 
joy  which  rewarded  him  for  his  absence.  Those  who  knew  him 
in  the  business  of  life  were  astonished  at  the  warmth  of  his  affec 
tions,  and  he  became  a  pattern  man  for  the  wives  of  all  their  ac 
quaintance,  and  as  for  the  husbands,  they  envied  him  the  wife 
whose  powers  of  pleasing  had  survived  the  wear  and  tear  of  long 
years  of  matrimonial  life. 

Mr.  De  Lisle  had  been  highly  gratified  by  the  arrangement 
which  gave  to  him  the  privilege  of  being  one  of  this  traveling 
party,  which  was  now  increased  by  his  being  permitted  to  assume 
the  charge  of  Mrs.  Smith,  in  consequence  of  the  departure  of 
Colonel  and  Mrs.  Worth,  who  were  about  to  leave  the  springs  for 
the  far  west,  where  the  Colonel  had  business  which  now  called 
him  away,  and  was  infinitely  obliged  to  Mrs.  Smith  when  she 
earnestly  entreated  them  to  leave  Grace  with  her.  And  after 
some  deliberation,  it  was  agreed  she  should  so  remain,  and  that 
Mrs.  Smith  and  Grace,  and  Mr.  De  Lisle,  should  meet  them  at 
Niagara.  From  Niagara,  it  was  agreed  to  journey  to  Quebec, 
and  thence,  down  the  lakes,  home. 

One  afternoon,  after  their  departure,  Mrs.  Smith,  Grace,  and 
Mr.  De  Lisle  rode  out  to  the  lake ;  and  reaching  a  point  where 
the  landscape  wore  an  aspect  of  great  beauty,  Mrs.  Smith  pro 
posed  they  should  wait  to  watch  the  setting  sun,  and  promised 
them  that  she  would,  to  while  away  the  time,  tell  them  the  most 
interesting  incident  of  her  life.  They  readily  acceded  to  her 
wishes,  and  seating  themselves  on  a  bank,  she  commenced  the  re 
lation  of  her  vision  and  conversations  with  the  Gentleman  in  Black. 
Both  agreed  it  was  one  of  the  most  surprising  dreams  they  had 
ever  heard,  and  for  the  first  time  they  became  possessed  of  the 
mental  history  of  their  dear  friend. 

Mr.  De  Lisle  asked  "  if,  indeed,  she  was  reduced  to  the  wretch 
ed  condition  of  skepticism  she  had  described?" 

"  My  dear  sir,"  replied  Mrs.  Smith,  "  my  opinions,  and  the 
present  state  of  my  mind,  have  been  honestly  given  ;  and  though 
25 


386  PETER  SCHLEMIHL. 

I  have,  and  do,  wish  for  the  certainty  of  faith,  on  a  subject  of 
such  vast  importance,  I  confess,  that  I  am  now,  as  then,  utterly 
devoid  of  all  hope.  Life  is,  to  me,  the  sum  of  human  existence; 
and  as  I  feel  assured  there  are  but  few  more  favored  than  myself, 
I  strive  to  be  content  with  the  condition  in  which  I  find  myself 
placed.  Belief,  or  unbelief,  seems,  to  me,  one  of  the  accidents  of 
life." 

Grace  was  silent,  but  evidently  grieved  at  the  frank  disclosures 
made  by  one  for  whom  she  had  cherished  feelings  of  tender  and 
affectionate  respect.  Mr.  De  Lisle,  too,  manifested  his  surprise 
and  sorrow  by  his  looks  rather  than  his  words;  and  Mrs.  Smith 
was  too  observant  not  to  perceive  the  effect  of  her  disclosures  upon 
her  friends,  and  with  the  utmost  candor  of  look  and  language, 
addressing  herself  to  Mr.  De  Lisle,  said — 

"My  dear  friend,  you  are  not  indifferent  to  these  subjects; 
your  views  are  the  results  of  study  and  reflection,  and  I  have  not 
bared  my  secret  soul,  but  from  the  wish  that  you,  knowing  my 
ignorance  and  my  despair,  would  help  me  out  of  the  labyrinth  of 
doubt  in  which  I  live.  Dubiety  is  to  me  the  skeleton  at  the  head 
of  the  feast  which  appals  me,  from  whose  presence  I  would  most 
gladly  be  relieved.  I  am,  indeed,  a  child  ;  knowing  nothing,  and 
wishing  to  know  all  things." 

"  My  dear  madam,"  replied  Mr.  De  Lisle,  with  earnestness  and 
tender  sympathy  of  voice,  "  this  is  the  mistake  you  have  made. 
You  are,  indeed,  a  child,  grasping  at  the  stars,  with  the  same  con 
fidence  and  expectancy  that  you  would  the  play-things  in  your 
lap.  The  religion  of  the  Bible  is  a  religion  of  faith!  The  very 
exercise  of  faith  is  that  which  places  the  soul  in  the  position  of 
filial  affection  towards  God,  the  Creator,  and  of  the  trust  and  reli 
ance  which  are  so  lovely  in  children  towards  their  parents,  and  so 
fitting  for  the  highest  intellects  toward  God.  I  can  conceive  of  no 
method  so  admirably  fitted  for  the  training  of  intelligent  beings, 
(such  as  we  know  ourselves  to  be,)  as  the  one  God  has  devised. 
It  must  be  perfect,  for  it  is  His  plan.  Such  were  the  views  of 
Paul,  and  such  is  the  heartfelt  experience  of  Christians  in  all  ages, 
and  of  all  conditions  of  mental  culture.  We  must  teach  our  souls 
submission, and  believe  that  what  we  know  not  now,  we  shall  know 
hereafter." 

"All  this  may  be  so,"  replied  Mrs.  Smith,  "but  pity  me,  if  you 
cannot  justify  me,  in  entertaining  the  questionings  which  will  arise 
in  my  mind,  whenever  I  attempt  to  think  of  God  and  his  govern 
ment  of  this  world.  There  seems  to  me  no  power  in  the  specula 
tions  I  have  read,  sufficient,  to  charm  down  that  spirit  of  unrest 
which  is  the  malady  of  my  mind." 

"  Dear  Mrs.  Smith,"  said  Mr.  De  Lisle,  "  these  are  doubts  which 


THE  ENIGMA  OF  LIFE  DISCUSSED.  387 

no  mind  can  solve.  We  are  compelled,  by  the  very  conditions  of 
our  being,  *  t'  await  the  great  teacher,  death,  and  God  adore.'" 

"But,"  said  Mrs.  Smith,  "there  is  ever  before  me,  a  dark  and 
unfathomable  gulf  of  mystery,  which  no  arguments  I  have  ever 
heard  can  close  up.  Man  to  me  seems  an  enigma  unresolved. 
His  birth,  and  progress  and  decline  are  all  alike  vanity  and  vexa 
tion  of  spirit ." 

"And  yet,"  replied  Mr.  De  Lisle,  "can  such  a  creature  as  man, 
so  wonderfully  endowed,  with  such  aspirations  of  soul,  such  long 
ings  for  immortality,  be,  indeed,  the  creature  of  time?  Can  it  be 
that  God  has  made  such  a  being  to  be  bounded  by  such  a  life? 
*  Is  life  a  dream,'  as  Shakspeare  says,  'rounded  by  a  sleep' — the 
sleep  of  oblivion?" 

"  Well,"  said  Mrs.  Smith,  "we  will  assume,  then,  that  man  is 
not  created  for  a  day,  but  for  eternity,  and  therefore,  man  is  not 
created  in  vain.  So  long  as  any  one  can  confine  his  thoughts  to 
those  who  are  yearning  for  the  time  which  is  clearly  to  disclose 
the  counsels  of  Omnipotence,  and  fully  to  develop  and  to  exercise 
the  deathless  capacities  of  the  human  soul ;  to  those  who  are 
laboring,  day  and  night,  to  prepare  themselves  for  that  hour  of 
retribution,  which  shall  unveil  all  hidden  things,  and  make  straight 
all  that  is  oblique  to  our  eye  ;  so  long  as  any  man  can  fix  his 
thoughts  on  spirits  of  this  stamp,  so  long  will  this  argument  appear 
bright  and  impenetrable  as  the  whole  armor  of  God.  But  then, 
unhappily,  there  will,  from  time  to  time,  rush  in  upon  the  mind 
the  thoughts  of  those  innumerable  myriads,  who  approach  the 
gate  of  death  without  any  apparent  consciousness  of  the  vanity  of 
their  condition  here;  without  one  desire  which  points  towards  any 
further  completion  of  their  destiny ;  without  a  wish,  and  often 
without  an  opportunity,  to  seize  upon  the  golden  chain  which  the 
Saviour  has  suspended  from  the  eternal  throne,  in  order  that 
thereby  he  may  draw  upwards  all  men  unto  himself.  And  what 
shall  be  said  of  these?  Not,  most  certainly,  that  they  are  created 
in  vain:  for,  whatever  may  be  their  lot  hereafter,  (if  the  Bible  be 
true,)  it  cannot  without  impiety  be  doubted,  that  it  shall  illustrate 
before  the  universe,  the  wisdom,  the  goodness  and  the  righteous 
ness  of  God.  I  think,  dear  Mr.  De  Lisle,  it  must  be  confessed,  that 
this  same  argument,  which  triumphantly  rescues  the  constitution 
of  the  world  from  the  imputation  of  vanity,  leaves  a  still  more 
fearful  shadow  hanging  over  the  fate  of  that  vast  portion  of  the 
human  race, of  which,  it  may  well  be  said,  'it  were  good  for  them 
that  they  had  never  been  born !'  That  they  were  not  made  in  vain^ 
is  a  consideration  which  scarcely  can  assuage  the  perplexity,  and 
anguish,  and  the  terror  with  which  the  anticipation  of  their  fu 
ture  doom  must  ever  weigh  down  the  heart  of  every  one  who  has 


388  PETER  SCHLEMIHL. 

*  thoughts  that  wander  through  eternity.'  Such  are  reserved  for 
a  state,  according  to  the  Bible,  unspeakably  more  dreadful  than 
vanity  ;  « the  blackness  of  darkness  may  be  their  abode  forever.' 

"There  is,"  continued  Mrs.  Smith,  with  a  tone  of  deep  melan 
choly,  "  something  inexpressibly  appalling  in  the  reflection,  not  that 
man,  through  much  discipline  and  tribulation  must  enter  into  the 
kingdom  of  heaven,  but  that,  in  such  an  overpowering  multitude 
of  instances,  the  discipline  and  tribulation  appear  to  fail  of  their 
effect:  so  that  millions  upon  millions,  who,  being  mortals,  would 
be  the  heirs  of  vanity,  must,  in  their  immortality,  be  the  heirs  of 
perdition!" 

Mrs.  Smith  ceased,  the  tears  were  in  her  eyes,  and  she  sat 
silent.  Grace,  deeply  moved,  put  her  arms  round  her  waist,  and 
leaned  her  head  upon  her  shoulder  as  if  to  express  her  sorrow  and 
her  sympathy, — an  act  of  tenderness  of  which  Mrs.  Smith  was 
sensible,  for,  wiping  away  her  tears,  she  kissed  Grace  affectionately. 
Mr.  De  Lisle,  who  had  sat  musing,  now  replied : 

"My  dear  friend,  I  fully  enter  into  all  these  painful  conditions 
of  doubt  by  which  you  are  surrounded.  Man  can  never  find  out 
God  to  perfection ;  all  the  enigmas  of  life  can  never  be  solved  on 
this  side  of  the  grave.  And  when  we  muse  on  these  fearful 
topics  of  thought,  there  is  room  for  meditation  even  to  madness. 
We  want  certainty,  where  all  must  be  dubiety.  We  need  some 
thing  to  soothe  the  pangs  of  the  trembling  and  sensitive  inquirer; 
to  still  the  waverings  of  those  that  are  in  search  of  rest,  and  to 
rebuke  the  taunting  spirit  which  is  ever  stimulating  the  soul  of 
the  doubter  to  the  depths  of  skepticism.  It  is,  I  am  well  aware, 
one  thing  to  show  that  man,  as  a  creature  of  this  world  only,  is 
walking  in  a  vain  show,  the  pageant  of  a  dream,  and  disquieting 
himself  for  naught :  but  it  is  another,  and  a  far  more  arduous  thing, 
to  grapple  with  the  searchings  of  the  heart,  which  must  frequently 
arise  when  pondering  on  the  fate  of  those  immense  numbers  who 
seem  content  with  vanity,  and  at  ease  beneath  the  bondage  of  cor 
ruption.  When  musing  on  such  subjects,  we  feel  almost  impelled 
to  break  forth  in  the  boldness  which,  sometimes,  JEHOVAH  per 
mitted  to  his  servants  the  prophets,  and  to  exclaim  :  '  Righteous 
art  thou,  O  Lord,  when  I  plead  with  thee;  yet  let  me  reason  with 
Thee  of  thy  judgments!  Why  is  it  that  thy  Spirit  striveth  not 
unconquerably  with  the  wicked  'till  they  become  weary  of  vanity, 
and  are  awakened  and  subdued  by  the  benignity  of  Him  who 
is  the  power  of  God,  and  the  Wisdom  of  God  ?  Why  is  it  that 
thy  salvation  is  still  like  a  light  that  shineth  in  a  dark  place? 
Why  is  it  that,  if  thou  hast  not  made  men  in  vain,  it  should  seem 
as  if  thou  hast  redeemed  them  in  vain?'  But  to  all  such  ques- 


THE  ENIGMA  OF  LIFE.  389 

tionings  of  the  soul,  there  is  this  reply — 'Shall  not  the  Lord  of 
the  whole  earth  do  right  ?'  This,  to  an  humble  Christian,  is  a  full 
reply.  He  rests  on  the  attributes  of  God,  and  trusts  Him  when 
and  where  he  cannot  trace  Him.  'God's  judgments  are  a  great 
deep.'  We  soon  get  into  deep  waters  in  our  attempts  to  fathom 
them,  and  our  cry  must  be,  'Lord,  save!  or  I  perish.'" 

Grace  had  thus  far  sat  an  absorbed  listener,  and  for  the  first  time 
in  her  life,  heard  of  questionings  which  were  as  painful  as  they  were 
novel.  She  fully  sympathized  with  her  friend  Mrs.  Smith,  while 
she  heartily  approved  of  the  remarks  made  by  Mr.  De  Lisle.  She 
felt  herself  prompted  to  speak,  but  the  fear  of  falling  short  of  the 
subject,  kept  her  silent.  And  while  she  gazed  upon  her  dear 
Mrs.  Smith,  with  a  tender  sorrow  for  her  skepticism,  there  was  a 
feeling  of  admiration  for  the  reach  of  thought  she  discovered  in  all 
she  said. 

The  piety  which  lived  in  the  breast  of  Grace,  had  grown  with 
her  growth,  and  she  could  not  well  remember  the  discipline 
through  which  she  passed  in  becoming  a  Christian.  As  they 
were  sitting  thus  silent,  the  splendors  of  a  gorgeous  sunset  were 
before  them.  The  lake  was  bathed  in  light,  and  all  around  them 
spoke  of  the  splendor  of  the  Deity,  whose  present  and  instant  crea 
tive  mind  gave  form  and  color  to  every  cloud  heaped  up  in  the 
depths  of  heaven,  for  their  admiring  gaze. 

"  Dear  Mrs.  Smith,"  said  Grace,  breaking  the  silence,  "  I  have 
listened  to  all  that  has  been  said  with  the  utmost  interest  and 
attention.  And  I  would,  in  addition  to  what  Mr.  De  Lisle  has  so 
well  said,  add  my  little  contribution  to  the  motives  of  action  which, 
I  hope,  may  lead  you  out  of  doubt  to  confidence  and  the  assurance 
of  faith.  But  you  must  begin  at  the  alphabet  of  piety.  You 
must  offer,  in  deep  sincerity  of  soul,  the  prayer  of  the  poor  man 
in  the  Gospel — '  Lord,  I  believe;  help  thou  my  unbelief T  God 
will  not  quench  the  glimmering  wick — but  you  are  grasping  ai 
the  mysteries  of  earth  and  heaven.  How  much  better  to  attain 
the  piety  of  Cowper,  as  expressed  in  his  beautiful  hymn,  « God 
moves  in  a  mysterious  way.'  ' 

"Dear  Grace,  repeat  it  to  us,"  said  Mrs.  Smith.  She  did  so; 
and  when  she  had  finished — "  Oh  !  how  sweet  and  lovely,"  ex 
claimed  Mrs.  Smith,  "does  piety  appear  in  the  mind  of  Cowper! 
Happiness  only  can  be  found  in  God,  and  in  being  like  him  !" 
and  Mrs.  Smith  was  again  silent.  The  sun  was  down — the 
brightness  of  the  heavens  was  now  lessening — the  party  rose,  and 
returned  to  their  carriage,  and  in  an  unbroken  silence  they  reached 
the  hotel. 

As  we  have  seen,  Mrs.  Smith  deemed  herself  unchanged  in 
her  skepticism.  But  our  readers  will,  we  think,  have  perceived 


390        ,  PETER  SCHLEMIHL. 

that  in  this  she  had  deceived  herself — that  unrest,  which  she  calls 
"  the  malady  of  her  mind,"  would  not  permit  her  to  be  quiet  at 
the  point  of  profound  indifference,  which  is  only  attained  when 
the  Spirit  of  God  has  taken  leave  of  the  soul  forever.  Indeed, 
she  had,  unconsciously  to  herself,  been  brought  under  influences 
different  from  any  in  which  she  had  ever  been  placed,  and  the 
effect  of  these  influences  is  indicated,  we  think,  by  the  course  of 
her  conversation,  which  we  have  repeated.  The  Holy  Scriptures, 
for  the  first  time  in  her  life,  had  become  the  subject  of  earnest 
and  sincere  investigation. 

And  for  this  mental  discipline  and  progress,  she  was  indebted 
to  the  new  friendships  she  had  formed,  in  Colonel  and  Mrs. 
Worth,  and  their  daughter,  and  Mr.  De  Lisle.  Her  love  for 
these  friends  inspired  her  with  respect  for  the  principles  that  con 
trolled  them,  and  led  to  the  inquiry,  "Why  are  these  persons  so 
dear  to  me?  Why  is  it  that  I  am  drawn,  as  by  an  irresistible 
impulse,  to  seek  their  society  ?"  She  was  not  long  in  discover 
ing  the  secret  of  their  attractions  to  her,  to  exist  in  the  lovely  ex 
emplifications  of  Christianity  which  they,  in  different  degrees  and 
combinations,  exhibited  in  every  act  of  their  lives. 

Mrs.  Smith  had  been  saved,  by  her  good  sense,  from  being  a 
propagandist  of  any  of  the  opinions  she  had  entertained.  She 
never  had  been  sure  they  would  be  the  last  results  to  which  she 
should  reach,  and  had  acted  accordingly.  Indeed,  she  had  so 
many  examples  of  the  absurdity  of  a  different  course,  that  she  in 
no  instance  departed  from  the  rule  of  conduct  she  had  prescribed 
to  herself.  And  whenever  any  of  these  topics  were  introduced 
in  her  circle,  she  always  assumed  the  position  of  an  inquirer — a 
course  of  conduct  which  it  would  be  well  for  these  "  free  inquir 
ers"  more  uniformly  to  adopt. 

In  Grace  she  saw  the  innocence  of  a  devotional  mind,  to  whom 
all  the  truths  of  the  Bible  were  unquestioned  verities:  she  loved 
the  sweet  serenity  of  her  faith,  and  wished  it  was  her  own.  For 
Mrs.  Worth,  she  learned  to  entertain  the  highest  respect.  Her 
range  of  thought  was  far  transcending  anything  Mrs.  Smith  had 
ever  before  known.  Her  mind  had  been  cradled  and  nurtured 
in  the  atmosphere  of  science  and  religion.  She  had  early  stu 
died  profoundly  the  philosophy  of  the  mind  and  the  science  of 
theology,  under  the  master  minds  of  the  day,  at  whose  feet  she 
had  literally  sat  a  delighted  scholar.  From  Mrs.  Worth  she  de 
rived  new  sources  of  thought,  and  to  her  she  opened  her  whole 
soul,  and  was  too  happy  to  find  she  had  not  lost  either  her  love 
or  confidence  ;  difficulties,  which  had  once  been  deemed  insur 
mountable,  became  as  mole  hills,  and  doubts  insoluble  were  solved, 
and  truths,  before  repugnant  or  obscure,  were  placed  in  new  as- 


STATE  OF  MRS.  SMITH'S  RELIGIOUS  OPINIONS.  391 

pects,  and  made  to  harmonize  with  the  attributes  and  Word  of 
God,  and  the  clearest  deductions  of  the  reason. 

Unconsciously  to  herself,  Mrs.  Smith  had  become  a  pupil  of 
Mrs.  Worth ;  and  whenever  alone,  the  topics  of  all  others  to  which 
their  conversation  tended,  and  upon  which  they  loved  to  dwell, 
were  those  best  calculated  to  lead  the  mind  of  Mrs.  Smith  out  of 
the  labyrinth  of  doubt  in  which  she  was  involved. 

With  Mr.  De  Lisle  she  had  never  before  communicated  her 
peculiar  sentiments;  but  the  absence  of  Mrs.  Worth  left  in  her 
mind  the  need  of  some  one  to  supply  her  place;  and  she  had 
sought,  on  this  afternoon,  to  make  a  full  disclosure  of  her  mental 
history  both  to  Mr.  De  Lisle  and  to  Grace  ;  and,  as  is  common  in 
such  cases,  she  made  out  her  condition  far  more  hopeless  than  it 
really  was.  It  may,  perhaps,  be  questioned  whether  it  was  well 
to  have  said  these  things  to  Grace,  who  might  have  remained  in 
happy  ignorance  of  such  doubts ;  and  she  had  thought  so,  and 
had  communicated  her  impression  to  Mrs.  Worth  ;  but  her  mother 
said  that,  though  they  might,  and  doubtless  would  perplex  the  mind 
of  Grace,  yet  this  would  be  a  mental  discipline  which  would  be 
useful  to  her;  and  as  these  doubts  and  difficulties  existed,  they 
would,  in  some  way,  and  at  some  time,  be  presented  to  her  mind, 
and  they  could  not  be  better  presented  than  by  herself,  in  the  pre 
sence  of  Mr.  De  Lisle.  So  sustained,  Mrs.  Smith  acted  as  we 
have  seen. 

At  supper  every  shade  of  pensiveness  was  obliterated  from  the 
face  of  Mrs.  Smith.  Doyle  had  seated  himself  beside  her  at 
the  table,  and  was  more  amusing  than  usual ;  and  Col.  Green 
wood  had  led  Adela  and  Grace  to  seats  on  the  other  side  of  the 
table,  and  helped  to  show  oft' "his  young  protege"  as  Grace  was 
playfully  called  by  him.  Mrs.  Smith  was  earnestly  invited  by 
Doyle  to  be  at  the  assembly  on  that  evening  ;  Mrs.  Tripp  was 
sick,  and  could  not  accompany  Miss  Adela,  and  he  was  in  de 
spair  if  she  refused.  She  said,  "she  could  not  go  unless  Grace 
would  also  go;"  and,  after  much  canvassing,  and  prayers,  and 
entreaties,  Grace  consented,  and  the  party  was  made  up,  and  the 
ladies  withdrew  to  dress. 

At  the  ball,  Mrs.  Smith  appeared  in  her  liveliest  mood  of  sport 
ive  gayety,  and  conversed  with  Col.  Greenwood  with  more  than 
her  accustomed  joyousness  of  manner,  and  danced  with  him 
through  several  sets  of  cotillions,  leaving  De  Lisle  to  play  the 
agreeable  to  Grace,  As  Grace  sat  looking  on  the  gay  scene  be 
fore  her,  her  face  assumed  a  thoughtful  aspect,  and  Mr.  De  Lisle 
addressed  her  playfully, 

"  A  penny  for  your  thoughts,  Miss  Grace." 

Grace  was  taken  by  surprise,  but  with  her  accustomed  truth- 


392  PETER  SCHLEMIHL. 

fulness,  replied,  "I  was  wondering  how  our  friend,  Mrs.  Smith, 
could  wear  such  an  air  of  gayety.  Our  conversation  seems  for 
gotten,  and  no  one  could  believe  that  she  could  be  the  subject  of 
thoughts,  so  dark  and  fearful  as  they  seem  to  me,  now  that  she 
wears  so  bright  and  joyous  a  look." 

"Ah,  Miss  Worth,  Mrs.  Smith  is  the  type  of  a  class  more 
numerous  than  you  are  at  all  aware  of.  Mrs.  Smith  has  out 
spoken  what  most,  if  possible,  conceal  from  themselves.  The 
shadows  of  the  future  checker  the  festivities  of  the  gay,  but 
they  fly  with  the  greater  eagerness  from  thoughts  they  dare  not 
look  full  in  the  face,  and  in  the  earnestness  of  their  pursuits  after 
pleasure,  strive  to  forget  themselves.  It  is  this  rebound  which  we 
see  in  Mrs.  Smith.  The  misery  of  man  is  never  so  plainly  seen 
as  in  the  various  expedients  made  to  get  rid  of  self-consciousness. 
Why  do  these  groups  wear  the  aspect  of  so  much  joyousness  ? 
Is  it  that  they  are  happy  ?"  inquired  Mr.  De  Lisle. 

"  They  certainly  look  so,"  replied  Grace,  timidly ;  "  but  perhaps 
the  scope  of  your  meaning  is  not  perceived  by  me.  To  be  hap 
py,  we  must  be  the  subject  of  pleasurable  emotions  ;  now  may 
not  these  be  excited  in  such  a  gay  scene  as  this  ?  And  if  so, 
why  are  they  not  happy  ?" 

"My  dear  Miss  Worth,"  replied  Mr.  De  Lisle,  "to  be  happy, 
we  must,  as  you  say,  be  possessed  of  pleasurable  emotions  ;  but 
these  must  arise  from  such  as  are  adapted  to  satisfy  the  wants  of 
the  soul.  The  excitement  of  this  ball,  like  that  of  gaming,  is  suc 
cessful  only  so  far  as  it  absorbs  the  soul,  and  wrapping  it  for  the 
time  in  forgetfulness  of  itself.  The  hour  of  recess  of  excitement 
brings  with  it  a  sense  of  its  poverty,  and,  perhaps,  to  minds  in 
some  degree  enlightened,  the  stings  of  remorse." 

The  cotillion  broke  up,  and,  at  this  moment,  Col.  Greenwood 
and  Mrs.  Smith,  Adela,  and  Doyle,  rejoined  them,  and  so  put  an 
end  to  this  conversation. 

"  Dearest  Grace,  I  have  promised  Col.  Greenwood  the  pleasure 
of  dancing  the  next  set  with  you,  and  myself  the  pleasure,  the 
distinguished  honor,  of  dancing  with  Mr.  De  Lisle.  Oh,  you 
need  not  say  one  word,  my  child  ;  you  must  do  so,  or  we  shall  all 
be  most  miserable.  Shall  we  not,  Colonel  ?"  said  Mrs.  Smith. 

The  Colonel  now  spoke  for  himself,  and  the  many  difficulties 
presented  by  Grace  were  all  overruled,  and  as  Mr.  De  Lisle  only 
waited  her  consent  to  lead  Mrs.  Smith  to  her  place  in  the  set 
called  for  by  the  master  of  ceremonies,  Grace  reluctantly  gave  her 
hand  to  Col.  Greenwood,  and,  for  the  first  time  in  her  life,  took 
her  position  at  a  public  assembly.  The  cotillion  was  a  delightful 
one.  Col.  Greenwood  was  especially  attentive,  and  at  once  en 
tered  into  the  timidity  of  Grace,  and  by  his  skill  and  attentions, 


RIDES  AT  THE  SPRINGS.  393 

soon  dispersed  all  her  fears  as  to  her  success  ;  and  as  for  Adela, 
she  feared  no  rivalry  with  Grace  or  Mrs.  Smith,  and  danced  with 
all  her  accustomed  grace  and  spirit  when  the  partner  of  the  gay 
Irishman.  The  dance  over,  they  all  seated  themselves  again, 
and  the  Colonel  retained  his  seat  next  Grace  during  the  evening. 
And  after  spending  an  hour  in  looking  on  the  waltzing  and  Span 
ish  dances,  in  which  the  Mexicans  and  their  partners,  the  Van 
Dams,  and  Katrine  Van  Tromp,  Doyle,  and  Adela,  were  con 
spicuous,  Mrs.  Smith  recalled  Adela  to  her  seat,  and  at  an  hour, 
late  for  herself  and  for  Grace,  but  much  too  early  for  Doyle  and 
Adela,  she  withdrew,  under  the  escort  of  Mr.  De  Lisle,  Col. 
Greenwood,  and  Lieutenant  Doyle. 

The  next  day  after  the  assembly,  Colonel  Greenwood  made  his 
call  on  Mrs.  Smith  and  Grace,  accompanied  by  Doyle.  He 
spoke  of  the  distinguished  honor  he  felt  Miss  Worth  had  conferred 
upon  him,  by  making  her  first  essay  at  dancing  in  public  with 
him ;  and  that  he  had  called  to  make  his  acknowledgments,  and 
to  invite  them  to  ride  with  himself  and  Doyle  towards  sunset  on 
horseback, and  turning  to  Mr.  De  Lisle,  said,"  I  have  a  horse  for 
you,  and  one  for  Miss  Adela,"  who  happened  to  be  present. 

Mrs.  Smith  at  once  accepted,  but  Grace  declined;  she  had  no 
riding  habit. 

"  Nor  indeed  have  I,"  said  Mrs.  Smith.  "  Colonel,  I  fear  we 
must  give  it  up,  unless  I  can  buy,  beg  or  borrow  suitable  habits. 
I  assure  you  I  will  try,  and  do  not  despair." 

And  with  the  zeal  which  always  characterized  her,  in  despite 
of  all  the  dissuasions  of  Grace,  who  said  she  was  as  poor  at  riding 
as  at  dancing,  Mrs.  Smith  left  the  gentlemen  to  Grace  and  Adela, 
and  sat  out  in  search  of  all  the  equipage  necessary  for  an  excur 
sion  on  horseback:  and  making  her  wants  extensively  known, 
her  room  was  soon  filled  with  caps,  boddices,  riding  skirts  of 
dresses,  in  all  possible  profusion:  so  there  was  no  excuse,  and — 
"  a  riding  they  must  go;"  and  it  was  a  most  delightful  ride  to  the 
whole  party.  Grace  acquitted  herself  with  most  entire  success,  and 
to  the  admiration  of  all  her  friends  ;  openly  arid  warmly  expressed 
by  the  colonel,  and  in  terms  no  less  gratifying  to  her  ear  from 
Mr.  De  Lisle.  And  during  the  week,  they  usually  rode  out  to 
gether  during  some  part  of  the  day.  Time  was  thus  slipping 
away  very  pleasantly  to  our  friends,  Mrs.  Tripp  only  excepted. 
'Tis  true  she  found  ample  time  to  present  in  a  proper  light  Mr. 
Winterbottom's  deportment,  and  to  say  how  poor  Adela  was  buoyed 
up  in  her  spirits  by  the  confident  expectation  of  his  speedy  return, 
and  her  fears  for  the  consequences  if  he  did  not.  That  she  was 
almost  forced  into  society,  and  feared  the  gloss  of  her  affected 
spirits  would  be  seen  through  even  by  the  lookers  on,  and  if  so, 


394  PETER  SCHLEMIHL. 

how  much  more  by  her  especial  friends  ?  But  so  it  was.  She 
shouldn't  stay  much  longer.  It  was  not  possible  for  Adela  to  keep 
up  the  face  she  wore,  and  that  she  rarely  went  out  except  with 
Mrs.  Smith  and  Mr.  De  Lisle,  who  took  great  interest  in  her  case, 
and  thought  it  was  every  way  best  for  her  to  make  the  effort  she 
did.  And  so  this  dear  lady  did  the  best  she  could,  to  throw  dust 
in  the  eyes  of  these  clear-sighted  people.  It  is  a  remark,  I  believe, 
of  La  Rochefoucault,  "  No  man  is  equally  cunning  at  all  times." 
And  it  was  so  now.  Mrs.  Tripp  deceived  no  one  but  herself,  and 
entirely  absorbed  by  this  one  idea,  she  was  entirely  blind  to  what 
might  possibly  happen,  while  she  was  making  these  long  and 
wearisome  calls  at  her  friends'  rooms. 

If  Colonel  Greenwood  found  Mrs.  Smith's  parlor  the  most  at 
tractive  one  at  the  springs,  so  did  Lieutenant  Doyle  make  a 
similar  discovery  of  the  many  pleasant  things  with  which  Mrs. 
Tripp  had  managed  to  make  her  parlor  pleasant.  It  had  a  plea 
sant  look  out  of  the  rear  of  the  building,  for  her  parlor  was  in  the 
rear — the  front  having  been  selected  by  her  for  her  own  private 
room ;  and,  too,  there  was  a  splendid  piano  always  open,  and  the 
most  perfectly  accomplished  pianist  at  hand  to  give  its  harmonies 
to  the  summer  breeze,  which,  loaded  with  perfumes  from  the 
garden,  came  in,  as  it  were,  by  stealth,  attracted  by  the  sweet 
sounds. 

Doyle  was  a  fine  performer  on  the  violin,  one  of  the  best  of 
which,  a  real  stradella,  he  had  brought  with  him,  and  he  could 
play  very  well  on  the  piano.  This  unity  of  tastes  and  powers 
of  pleasing  added  greatly  to  the  attractiveness  of  Mrs.  Tripp's 
parlor  to  Doyle,  and  as  Adela  was  not  permitted  to  walk  out,  he 
came  to  share  her  confinement. 

Mrs.  Tripp  was  too  much  pleased  with  the  attentions  paid  to 
her  by  Doyle  and  Colonel  Greenwood  not  to  look  with  compla 
cency  upon  these  gentlemen,  and  as  there  was  none  to  witness 
the  frequency  of  Doyle's  visits  (so  she  was  pleased  to  think),  and  as 
they  made  Adela  content  to  remain  in  the  seclusion  she  deemed  so 
desirable,  she  was  well  content  he  should  come.  As  for  Adela, 
the  days  passed  delightfully,  and  the  evenings  were  charming. 
She  was  actually  inspired.  She  trod  on  air;  she  never  before 
realized  her  powers  of  pleasing,  so  fully  as  now,  and  they  were 
developed  by  one  who  appreciated  them  at  their  full  value. 

As  Mrs.  Tripp  could  not  be  everywhere,  Doyle  and  Adela 
were  much  alone  ;  but  then  she  had  cautioned  Adela  against  going 
too  far,  and  Adela  was  a  girl  that  could  be  trusted. 

Alas!  the  folly  of  all  and  every  precaution,  when  an  Irishman, 
and  a  handsome,  young,  joyous  Irish  officer,  is  in  the  case.  It 
was  not  necessary  for  Adela  now  to  call  up  a  look ;  it  was  there  in 


DOYLE  AND  ADELA*S  DUET.  395 

spite  of  herself.  One  morning,  as  Adela  was  sitting  in  her  most 
attractive  neglige,  the  very  dress  her  mother  had  selected  as  best 
to  wear  in  the  premature  decline  she  was  so  soon  to  enact  in  Ba 
bylon,  (the  thought  of  which  appeared  to  Adela  more  and  more 
preposterous,  as  often  as  it  recurred  to  her  mind,  in  which  Mr. 
Winterbottom  stood  in  severe  and  hateful  contrast  with  Lieut. 
Doyle,)  his  tap  was  heard  at  the  door,  and  with  his  wonted 
smile  and  gay  "  good  morning,  Miss  Tripp,"  he  entered  with  a 
roll  of  music  in  his  hand. 

The  roll  was  opened,  and  Adela  found  it  to  consist  of  some 
"  duets  for  four  hands,"  which,  he  said,  he  had  brought  her,  and 
if  she  was  unengaged,  to  play  over  with  him  ; — a  request  which 
Adela,  though  alone,  at  once  granted,  so  perfectly  domesticated 
had  Doyle  become  in  the  week  after  they  had  commenced  their 
acquaintance. 

They  sat  down,  and  went  through  the  introduction  and 
theme  with  good  success,  but  soon  were  in  a  net-work  of  diffi 
culties.  The  passage  required  to  be  studied ;  their  faces  were 
brought  into  most  dangerous  proximity  as  they  read  the  passage 
together :  but  this  was  not  all.  Doyle's  part  carried  his  little  fin 
ger  under  Adela's  left  hand,  and  they  smiled  and  then  laughed 
as  they  played  on  ;  the  sensation  was  quite  electrical — then  they 
broke  down  again.  Again  they  studied  the  passage,  and  re 
newed  with  fresh  zeal  their  playing  ;  but  Doyle's  fingers  would 
go  astray,  and  Adela  playfully  put  his  fingers  on  the  right  keys ; 
then  offth^y  set  again,  but  Doyle's  eyes  and  fingers  went  hope 
lessly  astray,  and  Adela  ceased  playing,  and  looked  to  see  what 
was  the  matter.  Her  look  was  certainly  a  most  beautiful  one, 
perfectly  unaffected,  and  every  way  fascinating.  Doyle  could 
not  resist  it,  and  before  Adela  had  time  for  consciousness,  she 
found  herself  folded  in  his  arms,  and  his  kisses  warm  and  long 
on  her  lips.  Her  confusion  was  great,  and  her  surprise  was  ex 
pressively  and  painfully  painted  on  her  now  glowing  cheeks. 

Doyle,  with  an  air  of  penitence,  led  her  to  the  sofa,  and  there 
told  her  of  his  love,  in  tones  and  phrases  the  most  honest  and 
truthful,  and  begged  her  to  reciprocate  his  passion.  He  candidly 
confessed  that  he  made  this  avowal  with  the  deepest  conviction 
that  he  had  little  to  offer  her  but  his  affections. 

Adela  listened  with  a  most  confused  and  distracted  attention. 
She  feared  her  mother  would  enter — feared  she  was  doing  wrong, 
and,  finally,  feared  she  might  take  a  step  which  prudence  and 
policy  would  not  sanction  as  best.  But  her  dear  mother  was  all 
this  while  reiterating  all  her  tale  to  Mrs.  Van  Dam  of  the  sad 
state  of  Adela's  spirits — her  fixed  purpose  never  to  go  into  society 
only  when  she  was  compelled  to  do  so — the  kindness  of  Mrs. 


396  PETER  SCHLEMIHL. 

Smith,  and  her  entreaties  to  keep  Adela  from  the  life  of  seclusion 
which  she  seemed  so  resolutely  determined  to  follow.  And  so 
Adela  had  time  to  regain  her  self-possession,  and  spoke  of  the 
shortness  of  their  acquaintance,  not  yet  two  weeks,  the  little  she 
could  know  of  Lt.  Doyle,  and  the  little  Lt.  Doyle  could  know  of 
her:  and,  indeed,  talked  in  a  most  sensible  and  discreet  manner; 
but  it  must  be  confessed,  had  she  selected  the  method  best  calcu 
lated  to  increase  the  passion  of  her  lover,  she  could  not  have  done 
better.  She  told  him  of  the  wishes  of  her  parents,  and  their  ex 
pectations,  in  phrases  most  singularly  felicitous,  and  as  if  uncon 
sciously,  her  feelings  of  regret  they  had  not  met  at  an  earlier  day. 
The  maid  coming  in,  the  conference  ended,  and  Lt.  Doyle  re 
tired;  and  Adela  was  well  satisfied  it  should  terminate  at  this 
point.  It  gave  her  time  to  reflect;  and  she  lost  no  time  in  doing 
so.  Her  mother  now  came  in  from  her  room,  into  which  she  had 
the  moment  before  entered,  and  told  Adela  she  had  been  perfectly 
successful  in  enlisting  the  sympathy  of  Mrs.  Van  Dam,  whose 
virtuous  indignation  had  at  last  been  successfully  aroused;  «*  and 
now,"  she  continued,  "  we  must,  my  child,  think  of  going  home. 
It  won't  do  to  stay  here  and  receive  the  attentions  of  this  young 
Irishman,  and  next  Monday  we  must  be  off." 

"  Next  Monday  !  my  dear  mother,  and  go  back  to  Babylon  in 
the  heat  of  summer!  Who  ever  heard  of  such  a  thing?" 

"  Nobody!  dear  Adela,  and  that  will  help  to  make  the  matter 
the  more  conspicuous.  That's  just  what  we  need." 

Adela  sighed  and  said  nothing — but  the  air  of  sadness  was 
seen  by  Doyle  at  dinner.  And  he  sought  in  vain  to  dispel  the 
shadows  which  he  saw  in  spite  of  herself,  rested  upon  her  spirits. 
He  was  sure  it  arose  from  his  abruptness  and  his  want  of  refine 
ment,  in  overleaping  all  the  bounds  of  courtesy  in  the  conduct  of 
his  interview  with  Adela.  On  their  way  to  the  saloon,  where 
she  went  "just  to  be  seen,"  with  her  mother,  for  a  few  moments, 
(this  being  a  part  of  the  course  of  display  adopted  by  this  good 
lady  every  day,)  Adela  found  time  to  whisper  to  him,  in  reply  to 
his  confession  of  deep  regret  at  the  sadness  he  discovered  in  her 
at  dinner,  that  she  was  not  angry,  she  had  nothing  to  forgive,  and 
that,  after  supper,  her  mother  was  engaged  to  play  whist  with  Mrs. 
Van  Dam,  and  she  should  be  alone,  and  would  then  explain  all. 
And  so  it  was.  Mrs.  Tripp  was  no  sooner  gone  into  Mrs.  Van 
Dam's  parlor,  than  Lt.  Doyle  tapped  at  Adela's  parlor  door. 

Relieved  from  fear  of  interruption,  Adela  told  Doyle  the  cause 
of  her  griefs,  and  his  alarm  was  as  great  as  she  could  desire  it. 
He  renewed  his  declaration,  again  urged  her  acceptance  of  his 
hand,  his  heart;  and  Adela  found  her  hand  clasped  in  his  with 
passionate  eagerness,  without  the  slightest  inclination  on  her  part 


397 

to  withdraw  it.  She  sighed  as  she  told  him  in  what  a  network 
of  difficulties  she  found  herself — the  expectations  of  her  parents. 
She  confessed  she  found  she  had  no  love  for  Mr.  Winterbottom. 
He  was,  indeed,  a  man  of  great  excellence  and  moral  worth,  and 
possessed  a  princely  fortune,  but  she  never  had  any  heart  in  this 
matter,  but  had  followed  the  dictates  of  her  parents.  Now  she 
knew  she  should  be  miserable  for  life,  and  perhaps  lost  forever  if 
she  married  a  man  she  never  could  love.  Doyle's  heart  was 
fired  by  the  love  and  sacrifices  all  this  implied,  and  again  told 
her  his  life  depended  on  her  loving  him. 

"  Dearest  Adela,  give  me  the  highest  of  all  expressions  of  your 
confidence,  and  I  pledge  you  my  honor,  my  life  shall  be  devoted 
to  show  you  how  truly  I  deserve  and  prize  the  confidence  I  seek 
— my  angel !  Elope  with  me — 'tis  our  only  hope  of  happi 
ness  !" 

Adela  started,  and  exclaimed,  "  Oh,  no!  'tis  impossible.  What 
would  the  world  say?  What  excuse  could  we  plead  ?  My  pa 
rents  would  never  forgive  me,  and  then,  too,  what  would  your 
family  say  ?  It  might  wear  an  aspect  to  them  which  would  for 
ever  shut  me  out  from  their  confidence  and  affection.  Oh  !  no, 
no,  I  dare  not." 

Doyle  was  really  sobered,  and  Adela  thought  she  had  gone 
too  far,  and  had  touched  a  wrong  note,  for  he  paused,  and  was 
lost  in  severe  thought. 

"  It  is  all  true,  my  beautiful  Adela — the  risks  we  run  are  great. 
You,  my  angel,  sacrifice  for  me,  a  Lieutenant  of  the  Coldstream 
Guards,  a  princely  fortune.  I  have  heard  all  about  this  Mr.  Win 
terbottom  since  the  day  of  our  first  meeting.  Everybody  who  has 
spoken  of  you  has  told  me  of  your  being  affianced  to  him — but 
when  I  saw  you,  I  felt  it  must  be  a  marriage  in  which  your 
affections  had  no  interest,  and  I  have  every  day  been  more  and 
more  fully  persuaded  it  was  so.  My  family,  dearest  Adela,  are 
of  the  nobility  of  my  country — my  father  is  a  younger  son,  dis 
tinguished  for  his  courage  rather  than  his  wealth.  All  my  hopes 
rest  on  my  uncle,  now  an  old  man,  whose  wealth  is  great.  My 
marriage  may  be  condemned  ;  it  doubtless  will  be  ;  but  when  they 
see  you,  dearest  Adela,  they  must  love  you.  My  old  uncle  can't 
resist  your  eyes  for  a  single  hour !  No,  dearest,  we  are  safe  ! 
we  shall  be  happy." 

And  not  to  go  on  with  further  details,  Adela  agreed  to  elope 
with  Lieut.  Doyle.  And  the  brief  hour  which  remained  was 
spent  in  telling  each  other  how  and  when  they  first  discovered 
their  mutual  passion,  and  all  that  sort  of  things,  which  are  of 
the  utmost  importance  to  be  settled,  with  as  much  precision  as  the 
meridian  of  a  recently  erected  Observatory.  It  was  certain  Doyle 


398  PETER  SCHLEMIHL. 

had  no  reason  to  complain  of  any  confusion  of  dates,  or  circum 
stances  in  Adela's  confessions.  They  were  full  and  perfectly 
satisfactory,  and  confirmed  in  the  agreeable  way  adopted  on  such 
occasions.  The  plans  for  the  accomplishment  of  this  grand  event 
were  forestalled  by  the  pleasure  they  took  in  determining  this 
most  interesting  of  all  data. 

Adela,  having  instructed  her  maid  to  say  to  her  mother  she 
had  been  alone  all  the  evening,  and  not  feeling  well,  had  retired, 
went  to  bed.  For  the  first  night  in  her  life  she  was  kept  awake 
by  her  thoughts.  Heretofore  she  had  kept  others  waking  by  her 
fascinations,  but  now,  for  one  night  at  least,  she  was  unable  to  sleep. 
Her  cogitations  were  full  of  clear  views  of  all  the  advantages  and 
disadvantages  of  the  step  she  was  about  to  take.  That  she  should 
be  roasted  alive  by  her  set  in  Babylon  was  to  be  expected.  Of 
that  she  cared  little  or  nothing,  for  she  should  be  on  the  other  side 
of  the  Atlantic  or  in  the  snows  of  Canada.  Doyle  had  no  doubt 
told  her  the  truth.  The  old  uncle  was  the  mine  to  be  opened  to 
supply  her  wants ;  and  she  felt  confident  of  her  success  with  him. 
She  fancied  meeting  him  drawn  up  to  his  height,  determined  to 
resist  her  advances.  She  went  through  the  scene  in  all  its  varie 
ties,  and  saw  her  success  in  the  mixing,  with  all  possible  grace, 
his  whisky-toddy,  and  sitting  on  his  knee  while  he  drank  it.  In 
deed  there  could  be  no  question  of  the  result.  Then  she  thought 
of  her  presentation  at  court,  and  her  chances  of  success  as  an 
American  beauty.  Beauty,  she  had  heard,  was  the  leveler  of  all 
the  distinctions  of  rank  in  England  ;  and  there  came  thronging 
into  her  mind  the  devotion  of  earls  and  of  dukes — the  opera,  and 
the  drawing-rooms  of  royalty. 

Then  Mr.  Winterbottom  and  his  house  looked  like  a  mud  cot 
tage  in  the  comparison — an  old  man,  how  hateful !  She  would 
turn  him  over  to  Josephine.  And  now  should  she  tell  her  mo 
ther?  This  was  long  a  debateable  question,  and  finally  deter 
mined  in  the  affirmative.  This  done,  she  fell  asleep. 

And  so  the  next  morning  Adela  made  her  mother  acquainted 
with  her  fixed  and  firm  resolve  to  elope  with  Lieut.  Doyle.  She 
affirmed  her  unflinching  determination  never  to  rnarry  Mr.  Win 
terbottom  under  any  possible  condition  of  circumstances.  She  told 
her  of  Doyle's  family,  not  forgetting  the  rich  old  uncle,  and  the 
certainty  she  felt  of  her  success  with  him,  and  at  the  court — and 
then,  too,  Josephine  might  come  forward,  and,  if  she  pleased,  marry 
Mr.  Winterbottom. 

Mrs.  Tripp  listened  in  silent  astonishment  at  first,  but  gradually 
the  clouds  lifted,  and  when  Adela  had  come  to  a  close,  she  em 
braced  her,  and  said  she  deserved  to  be  a  queen,  and  she  hoped 
she  might  one  day  see  her  one.  She  expressed  her  admiration 


ADELA' s  ARRANGEMENT  FOR  ELOPING.  399 

of  her  success,  and  agreed  to  send  for  a  supply  of  money  and 
some  shawls,  which  AdeJa  wished  to  be  possessed  of.  And,  enter 
ing  with  enthusiasm  into  her  plans,  promised  Adela  a  thousand 
dollars  a  year,  if  necessary,  until  her  plans  had  been  fully  accom 
plished. 

Adela  was  triumphant !  her  step  was  buoyant,  and  her  looks 
bright.  Doyle  was  delighted  beyond  measure.  Mrs.  Tripp  was 
counselor  to  all  Adela's  plans.  It  was  deemed  by  her  of  the  first 
importance  that  the  marriage  ceremony  should  be  performed  by 
a  Catholic  priest,  and  a  clergyman  of  the  Church  of  England. 
And  this  being  communicated  to  Doyle,  he  sought  among  the 
visitants  at  the  springs  for  these  very  important  personages,  and 
happily  there  was  discovered  the  rector  of  one  of  the  English 
Episcopal  Churches  in  Canada,  on  a  visit  to  the  springs,  and  a 
no  less  important  person  than  fJohn  of  Babylon  the  Less.  So  far 
all  was  well.  While  awaiting  for  the  money,  and  the  bundle  from, 
home,  Adela  emerged  from  her  seclusion,  and  was  once  more  to  be 
seen  in  the  saloon,  in  the  highest  health  and  gayety  of  heart — a 
great  change  from  the  pensive  aspect  she  had  assumed  for  a  fort 
night  past.  In  the  meanwhile,  Mrs.  Tripp  announced  her  pur 
pose  of  returning  on  the  next  Monday,  and  had  secured  the  escort 
of  Mr.  Thompson,  a  merchant  returning  to  Babylon,  to  take  charge 
of  Adela  and  herself.  She  acted  her  part  to  perfection,  keeping 
up  her  daily  intercourse  with  the  Van  Dams  and  Van  Tromps, 
and  speaking,  with  a  fainter  tone,  complained  of  Mr.  Winter- 
bottom's  inexplicable  conduct. 

Adela  improved  the  time  to  the  utmost.  She  sought  to  con 
ciliate  Mrs.  Smith  and  Grace,  and  the  esteem  of  Mr.  De  Lisle,  and 
it  is  certain  that,  during  their  stay  at  the  springs,  she  had  succeeded 
in  a  good  degree  to  interest  them  by  her  fine  manners,  and  her 
many  accomplishments.  Nor  was  she  less  solicitous  to  appear  well 
in  the  eyes  of  Col.  Greenwood;  but  he  had  seen  too  many  of  just 
such  fine  ladies,  and  saw  beneath  this  polished  exterior,  the  utter 
heartlessness  of  the  young  lady,  when  she  affected  to  be  all  heart. 
His  attentions  were  concentrated  on  Grace,  whom  he  always 
welcomed  with  a  warm  and  affectionate  smile,  and  sought  by  his 
attentions  to  please.  Not  that  he  evinced  the  slightest  wish  by 
any  act,  to  win  her  affections.  They  were  all  strangers  at  the 
springs.  Time  hung  heavy  on  them  all,  and  was  best  spent  by 
mutual  courtesy.  He  spoke  often  of  the  pleasure  he  should  re 
ceive  by  meeting  them  at  Quebec,  to  which  place  he  should  return 
now  in  a  very  few  days,  and  be  ready  to  welcome  them  there.  „ 

The  Sunday  evening  came,  and  the  gathering  in  Mrs.  Smith's 
parlor  broke  up  at  an  early  hour,  as  was  usual.  Adela  kissed 


400  PETER  SCHLEMIHL. 

the  ladies  with  warmth  and  tenderness  on  taking  leave  of  them, 
which  was  unusual,  but  still  unremarked  at  the  time. 

When  Mrs.  Tripp  and  Adela  entered  Adela's  chamber,  there 
was  yet  one  thing  to  be  done,  and  but  one  thing.  Mrs.  Tripp's 
trunks  and  Adela's  were  packed,  all  ready  for  their  departure. 
Adela's  to  be  removed  at  daybreak,  and  Mrs.  Tripp's,  when  the 
train  left  at  eleven  o'clock  in  the  morning.  Adela's  to  go  to  the 
North,  and  her  dear  mother's  down  the  river. 

"  My  child,  there  now  remains  but  one  thing  more  to  be  attended 
to,  and  I  have  left  it  to  this  last  hour,  that  it  might  be  attended  to 
in  the  best  possible  manner.  It  is  to  write  a  letter  to  your  father 
and  myself." 

"Oh,  yes,"  replied  Adela,  "I  have  been  thinking  of  that  my 
self,  and  I  will  set  about  it."  So  saying,  Adela  opened  her  port 
folio,  and  commenced  writing. 

"  Do  you  think  it  should  be  a  long  letter  or  a  short  one  ?"  asked 
Adela. 

"A  short  one,  my  dear ;  but  let  it  be  one  of  deep  feeling.  Con 
dense  your  thoughts,  and  make  them  tell.  Sorrow  is  always 
brief,  when  really  felt.  Be  as  brief  as  may  be." 

And  so  Adela  made  a  beginning,  and  ere  she  was  aware  of  it, 
was  under  the  necessity  of  turning  over  the  leaf;  her  mother  sat 
by  in  perfect  silence,  and  Adela  was  at  the  bottom  of  the  second 
page  before  she  had  come  to  an  end,  and  then  on  the  third  page 
wrote  a  postscript,  which  all  but  overrun  the  entire  page. 

When  she  had  written  for  the  last  time  in  her  life  the  name  of 
Tripp,  she  handed  it  to  her  mother,  who  read  it  carefully  from 
beginning  to  end. 

"It  is  entirely  too  diffuse,  my  child;  it  enters  into  too  many 
particulars,  and  is  wanting  in  intensity  of  expression." 

"  Dear  mother,  do  you  take  the  pen,  and  erase  all  you  think 
best,"  said  Adela. 

"No,"  said  Mrs.  Tripp.  "  I  prefer  you  should  do  so  yourself. 
That  allusion  to  Mr.  Winterbottom  must  be  suppressed  entirely. 
This  letter,  child,  is  for  general  use.  I  must  read  it  to  all  our 
friends  here,  and  they  have  neither  patience  to  read  all  this,  nor 
credulity  to  believe  it,  if  they  did.  Feeling,  at  a  separation  from 
your  home,  is  natural  and  fitting,  and  all  beside  is  mere  verbiage. 
You  need  enter  into  no  defence  of  your  conduct ;  that  is  indefen 
sible." 

And  so  there  was  along  confab,  in  which  every  expression  was 
modified  so  as  to  "pile  up  the  agony" — all  the  expressions  of  love 
to  her  dear  father,  who  was  a  most  important  person  to  be  con 
ciliated,  were  turned  and  twisted  till  the  words  fell  into  their  pro 
per  places  as  perfectly  as  the  pieces  of  wood  in  a  dissected  map. 


ADELA  TRIPP'S  LETTER  TO  HER  PARENTS.  401 

All  this  being  accomplished,  Adela  made  a  fair  copy,  and  handed 
it  to  her  mother  to  read  over. 

Mrs.  Tripp,  in  the  most  natural  manner  possible,  for  she  was 
sincere,  after  having  read  the  letter,  looked  up  from  the  paper,  and 
said  to  Adela,  "  Here  are  the  words,  Adela,  but  where  are  the 
tears  ?" 

Adela  threw  down  the  pen,  and  burst  into  a  fit  of  inextinguish 
able  mirth — "Sure  enough,  where  are  they?  I  can  call  spirits 
from  the  vasty  deep,  but  will  they  come  ?  I  really  can't  conjure 
up  tears  on  demand  to-night." 

The  mother  looked  with  surprise  at  her  child's  mirthfulness. 
"  Tears,  Adela,  are  essentially  necessary  and  natural  to  be  shown 
upon  such  a  letter  as  this  ;  they  are  as  necessary  as  the  ink  ;  they 
are  spoken  of,  and  must  be  exhibited  ;  both  ink  and  tears  are  re 
quired  alike  in  the  expressions  of  the  emotions  here  spoken  of. 
I  do  not  require  you  to  weep.  God  grant  you  never  may  have 
cause  to  weep  over  the  doubtful  and  perilous  step  you  are  about 
to  take." 

"  Well,  mother,  this  is  a  secret  you  havn't  told  me.  I  am  ready 
to  learn,  but  I  am  utterly  unable  to  shed  the  tears  spoken  of  now. 
I  am  sure  I  shall  weep  when  this  affair  is  all  over;"  and  Adela 
gave  signs  of  natural  sorrow,  which,  if  encouraged,  \vould  doubt 
less  have  supplied  all  the  tears  requisite  even  in  the  judgment  of 
her  mother.  But  Mrs.  Tripp  was  not  in  a  melting  mood.  She  had 
braced  up  her  nerves  to  go  through  this  scene,  and  by  a  strong 
will,  closed  up  every  avenue  of  tears  and  sorrow,  which  could  be 
of  no  service  now,  and  would  prevent  her  from  doing  what  was 
so  necessary  to  be  well  done. 

She  rose  and  rung  the  bell,  making  no  reply  to  Adela,  and 
seemed  to  take  no  notice  of  Adela's  sensibility.  The  maid  came 
into  the  room,  and  received  orders  to  bring  in  a  salt-cellar  of  salt. 
Adela  sat  now  wondering  at  what  might  next  be  done,  and  \vas 
diverted  from  the  sad  thoughts  which  had  come  crowding  into  her 
mind. 

On  receiving  the  salt,  Mrs.  Tripp  made  a  strong  solution  of  it, 
and  tried  its  strength  by  dropping  it  on  a  clean  sheet  of  paper,  and 
drying  the  drops  by  the  blaze  of  the  candles,  until  the  mixture 
had  attained  the  proper  intensitjr.  All  this  while  both  mother 
and  daughter  sat  silent.  So  soon  as  Mrs.  Tripp  had  satisfied  her 
self  of  the  fitness  of  the  solution  to  suit  the  purpose  of  shedding 
tears,  she  told  Adela  to  take  the  feather  of  the  pen,  and  shed  the 
tears  as  she  deemed  most  appropriate. 

"I  think,"  said  Mrs.  Tripp,  "the  first  and  second  sentences 
may  be  left  unspotted.  Emotion  prompting  tears  would  naturally 
arise  and  manifest  itself  toward  the  close  of  the  letter.  This  pass- 
26 


402  PETER  SCHLEMIHL. 

age,  I  think,  is  touching,  and  will  bear  a  few  tears: — '  The  image 
of  my  most  precious  father  stands  before  me !  I  recall  all  his  love 
and  kindness !  And  you,  O  dear  mother,  and  my  dear,  dear  sis 
ters!  I  shudder  at  the  terrible  consciousness  that  I  am  separating 
myself  for  life  from  all  I  love,  and  all  who  love  me ;  my  heart 
sinks,  and  dissolves  in  tears.'  " 

Adela  dipped  the  tip  of  the  feather  of  her  pen,  and  shed  her 
tears  plentifully  over  this  passage,  to  her  mother's  entire  satis 
faction. 

"  Now,"  said  Mrs.  Tripp,  "  the  fourth  and  last  sentence,"  for 
Mrs.  Tripp  had  been  most  mercilessly  severe  upon  all  the  fine 
things  Adela  had  found  it  in  her  heart  to  say,  and  had  confined  her 
letter  to  a  single  page: 

"  God  only  knows  whether  the  step  I  take  leads  to  a  life  of 
happiness  or  misery!  But  I  must  follow  the  irresistible  prompt 
ings  of  love  and  destiny." 

"  A  few  tears  over  the  word  destiny" — said  Mrs.  Tripp.  «*  I  like 
that  word;  it  is  very  felicitous;  it  means  everything  and  nothing, 
but  has  a  fine  effect  in  this  place.  Now,  Adela,  expend  your  tears 
plentifully  here,"  pointing  to  the  close,  which  read  in  these  words : 

"  In  life  and  in  death — in  joy  and  in  sorrow,  you,  oh  my  father, 
my  most  precious  father!  and  you,  oh  my  mother,  my  sisters,  will 
live  in  present  remembrance.  Oh  do  not  discard  me  from  your 
hearts  !  pardon  me — pity  me!  and  love  me  with  the  unchanging 

and  undying  love  which  now  rends  the  heart  of 

"  ADELA  TRIPP." 

"  To  my  precious  parents,  and  to  my  dear,  dear  sisters." 

Adela  all  but  obliterated  the  closing  words,  and  her  name  was 
rendered  perfectly  illegible.  "  Will  that  do,  mother  ?"  said  she, 
smiling,  as  she  laid  down  the  pen. 

"Seal  it,"  said  the  mother;  "and  select  the  seal  having  the 
motto — '  Believe  me.'  "  Adela  folded  her  letter,  and  placing  it 
under  an  envelop,  sealed  it  as  directed. 

"  Drop  a  tear  near  the  seal,"  said  the  mother.  It  was  done. 
"  Now  direct  it «  My  mother.'  "  Adela  did  so.  "  Now  a  few  tears 
on  those  words."  They  were  duly  shed. 

"And  now,  my  child,"  said  her  mother,  assuming  her  seat  in 
the  spacious  chair  in  which  she  was  sitting,  "  this  is  done ;  and 
before  we  separate,  I  have  a  few  words  to  say,  which  I  wish  you 
to  listen  to  with  all  attention.  They  may  be  the  last  I  shall  ever" — 
here  Mrs.  Tripp's  voice  faltered ;  but  in  an  instant  she  recovered 
herself,  and  in  measured  tones  and  with  perfect  emphasis,  she 
proceeded. 

"  Doyle,  my  dear  Adela,  is  a  man  of  warm  and  generous  im- 


MRS.  TRIPP'S  INSTRUCTIONS  TO  ADELA.  403 

pulses,  and  as  a  first  duty  to  him  and  yourself,  you  must  study  his 
character.  Be  sure  and  find  out  all  his  strong  points,  as  well  as 
his  weak  ones.  Women  make  great  mistakes  on  this  head,  and 
seek  only  for  those  points  they  can  most  successfully  play  upon, 
to  secure  their  ascendency,  and  so  gratify  their  self-love.  This 
you  must  avoid.  It  is  of  course  a  matter  of  the  first  importance 
to  know  how  to  manage  your  husband  ;  but  don't  begin  with  his 
failings,  and  forget  his  virtues ;  for  when  you  cease  to  respect 
your  husband,  you  are  on  the  high  road  to  despise  him." 

Adela  arched  her  eyebrows  with  surprise. 

Mrs.  Tripp  went  on  : — "  A  girl  of  your  sagacity  will  not  be  long 
in  finding  out  the  best  methods,  by  which  your  husband  can  be 
induced  to  relinquish  his  own  wishes,  when  they  come  in  conflict 
with  your  own.  But  I  warn  you,  knse  your  spiritings  gently? 
but  having  once  made  a  demand,  never  relinquish  it.  Let  him 
understand  that,  and  it  will  save  you  a  world  of  trouble.  And 
from  time  to  time,  as  proper  occasions  offer,  let  him  feel  the  reins, 
and  you  will  learn  to  guide  him  at  your  pleasure. 

"You  will  doubtless  meet  a  great  many  very  attractive  gentle 
men,  men  of  superior  rank  and  fashion  even  to  your  husband, 
who  will  render  you  the  tribute  of  their  praise.  Be  sure,  Adela, 
that  you  keep  in  rigid  abeyance  your  love  of  admiration.  With 
Doyle  this  must  be  a  severe  and  difficult  task.  Not  to  excite 
admiration,  will  be  to  inspire  the  fear  that  he  has  married  an  ordi 
nary  woman,  of  no  character  or  attractiveness  ;  while,  on  the  other 
hand,  to  make  the  slightest  manifestation  of  seeking  admiration, 
will  be  extremely  hazardous.  There  must  be  a  great  many  gay, 
fashionable  and  indolent  men  in  the  garrison,  who  will  be  glad  to 
be  amused.  Make  your  home  circle  as  attractive  as  you  can,  but 
out  of  it,  be  the  very  pattern  of  propriety.  Remember  this,  my 
child,  as  you  hope  for  happiness  with  your  husband,  or  success  in 
society. 

"  In  your  intercourse  with  women,  I  urge  upon  you  to  be  free 
from  all  guile.  Use  no  honeyed  words  with  them,  and  no  flattering 
arts." 

Adela  was  all  astonishment,  but  said  nothing ;  her  mother  saw 
the  look,  but  was  in  no  humor  now  to  suspend  her  remarks.  She 
went  on  in  an  unchanged  tone. 

"Women,  my  child,  well  understand  each  other;  and  they 
never  love  one  of  their  number  who  possesses  in  any  great  degree 
the  power  of  attractiveness,  if  exerted  over  their  husbands,  their 
lovers  or  their  friends.  You  may  be  certain  your  department  is 
just  what  it  ought  to  be,  when  you  find  yourself  an  object  of  con 
fidence  and  friendship  of  the  ladies  around  you.  There  is  no 
better  criterion  of  conduct  than  this.  There  is  no  false  glare,  no 


404  PETER  SCHLEMIHL. 

speciousness  of  manners,  which  can  long  deceive  your  female 
friends.  In  your  intercourse  with  them,  be  truthful^  kind,  affec 
tionate  and  sincere ; — but  I  warn  you,  make  no  confidants  of  them. 
If  circumstances  arise  which  demand  the  counsel  and  aid  of  a  con 
fidential  friend,  seek  some  gentleman  whose  honor  and  integrity 
are  unquestioned — such  men  never  betray  the  confidence  of  a 
woman. 

"You  will  see  the  necessity  of  my  counsels,  my  child,  when 
you  reflect  upon  the  position  in  which  you  will  be  placed  in  the 
circles  to  which  you  are  about  to  be  introduced.  It  is  well  to  look 
at  things  as  they  are.  In  all  probability  you  will  be  looked  upon 
as  a  designing  and  successful  dupe,  who  has  secured  a  prize  by 
an  alliance  with  a  young  man  of  noble  family.  Such,  I  think,  will 
be  the  first  and  universal  impression  on  all  the  friends  of  Doyle 
in  Canada  and  in  England,  and  the  least  slip  of  yours  will  betray 
you.  You  now  see  the  justness  of  the  advice  I  have  given  you. 
Assume,  therefore,  Adela,  the  aspect  of  an  affectionate  and  artless 
girl,  full  of  earnest  enthusiasm,  of  love  for  her  husband;  conduct 
yourself  as  you  can  conceive  Grace  Worth  would  do,  if  by  any 
possibility  she  could  be  placed  in  your  position:  and  by  degrees 
this  feeling  will  give  place  to  the  sentiment  that  Doyle  has  cap 
tured  a  beautiful  girl,  whose  heart  he  has  carried  by  storm. 

"  Beware  lest  a  furtive  look,  or  a  lurking  sneer  should  betray 
you  !  And  trust  no  one,  least  of  all  your  maid.  Let  the  saying 
of  Marshal  Saxe  be  falsified  in  your  history.  Be  the  same  loving, 
artless  girl  to  her  that  you  are  to  all  around  you,  for  she  will  be 
tampered  with.  All  the  mothers  and  daughters  and  widows  who 
would  gladly  have  captured  Doyle,  will  deem  you  an  intruder, 
and  will  seek  by  all  means  to  discover  your  secret.  Beware, 
Adela,  I  say  it  again,  of  your  waiting  maid. 

"  Do  not  let  yourself  be  betrayed  by  the  winning  confidence 
which  will  be  sought  to  be  placed  in  you  by  designing  women, 
speaking  scandal  of  the  members  of  your  circle.  When  so  ap 
proached,  assume  the  air  of  one  who  cannot  believe  an  ill-natured 
remark;  that  you  are  sure  there  must  have  been  some  misconcep 
tion,  and  perhaps  misrepresentation.  They  will  doubtless  call 
you  a  fool  and  a  simpleton,  but  they  will  in  their  inmost  hearts 
feel,  how  easily  one  so  unsuspecting  and  credulous,  could  have 
been  led  to  believe  in  the  professions  of  love  made  by  Doyle,  and 
this  will  help  you  to  compel  them  to  the  belief  that  you  are  indeed 
a  most  unsuspecting,  artless  girl. 

"  And  now  as  to  your  religion,  Adela  ;  you  are  to  have  no  reli 
gious  opinions,  but  show  yourself  possessed  of  religious  senti 
ment.  They  are  not  necessarily  connected.  Go  to  the  Episcopal 
Church  but  once  and  in  the  morning  of  every  Sabbath,  and  take 


405 

Doyle  with  you  :  indeed,  insist  on  his  accompanying1  you.  He 
may  object — it  may  be  a  new  thing  to  him;  but  he  will  love  you 
the  better  for  the  sacrifices  he  thus  makes,  and  prize  you  the  more 
highly;  for,  whatever  may  be  the  latitude  of  men's  opinions,  they 
love  piety  when  gracefully  exhibited  in  a  wife.  Let  the  first  gift 
you  receive  from  your  husband  be  a  prayer-book,  splendidly  bound 
as  you  please,  with  a  gold  cross  on  the  cover.  It  has  a  very  pretty, 
pious  air,  and  is,  besides,  a  beautiful  ornament  to  a  Sunday-dress. 
The  velvet  of  the  cover  gives  a  sweet  relief  to  the  hands  in  which 
it  is  held,  and  besides,  admits  of  their  being  seen  without  display 
to  the  best  advantage. 

"  When  you  reach  Ireland,  I  advise  you  to  show  all  readiness 
to  listen  to  the  claims  of  the  Catholic  Church,  and  inspire,  if  pos 
sible,  in  that  old  bigoted  uncle  a  desire  for  the  salvation  of  your 
soul.  If  this  can  be  done,  and  by  degrees,  not  too  suddenly,  he 
can  make  a  convert  of  you,  you  are  safe !  To  have  converted  you 
to  the  true  faith,  will  be  a  bond  of  affection  which  will  tell  well 
upon  the  future  fortunes  of  your  husband  and  yourself.  I  am 
sure  you  must  see  it  to  be  so !" 

Adela  bowed,  and  replied :  "  My  dearest  mother,  I  never  was  so 
deeply  impressed  with  your  superiority  and  clear-sightedness  as 
at  this  moment.  I  beg  you  to  believe  every  word  you  have  uttered 
has  sunk  deeply  into  my  heart,  and  shall  daily  be  the  subject  of 
my  maturest  reflection,  and  my  earnest  and  constant  effort  shall 
be  to  follow  suggestions  which  I  feel  to  be  of  the  utmost  import 
ance,  and  of  the  first  necessity." 

Mrs.  Tripp  smiled  affectionately.  "I  have  but  one  word  more, 
and  I  will  leave  you.  Finally,  then: — Never  cease  to  be  proud 
of  your  native  land.  Never  hope  to  win  the  love  of  those  whose 
country  you  have  adopted  as  your  own,  by  decrying  the  institu 
tions  of  this.  Defend  its  character  only  when  assailed,  and  speak 
of  your  birth-place  with  pride  and  pleasure.  Remember  you 
are  by  birth  as  noble  as  the  noblest — for  as  a  child  of  this  repub 
lic,  you  rank  with  the  nobles  and  princes  of  all  lands,  for,  if  here 
there  are  none  below  you,  so  there  are  none  above.  This  should 
never  be  forgotten  by  you. 

**  In  writing  to  me,  never  use  blotting  paper;  never  leave  a  let 
ter  unfinished;  and  when  sealed,  place  your  letters  in  the  office 
with  your  own  hands.  Such  letters  as  are  especially  confidential, 
and  let  these  be  as  few  as  may  be,  seal  *  Dinna  forget.'  Trust  no 
one  !  I  shall  write  you  only  such  letters  as  your  husband  may 
see — Never  any  other!  Whatever  advice  you  may  require, 
must  be  derived  from  your  husband  only.  But  I  have  no  fears 
for  your  success.  And  now,  Adela,  take  this  ring,"  drawing 
off  a  brilliant  from  her  finger;  "  when  you  feel  its  pressure,  when 


406  PETER  SCHLEMIHL. 

you  see  its  light,  remember  all  I  have  told  you,  and  may  God  bless 
you,  my  child,  my  Adela!" 

So  saying,  Mrs.  Tripp  embraced  Adela,  and  with  tears  took  her 
leave.  Adela  wept  awhile,  then  wiping  away  the  tears,  sat  a  long 
time  lost  in  thought.  She  looked  at  her  watch,  and  found  it  past 
midnight.  So  making  herself  ready,  she  laid  down,  and  soon  fell 
into  a  profound  sleep. 

The  next  morning,  as  Mrs.  Smith  and  Grace  were  waiting  for 
Mr.  De  Lisle  to  go  to  the  breakfast-hall,  in  rushed  Mrs.  Tripp,  in 
the  utmost  dismay,  with  the  letter  in  her  hand.  The  ladies  were 
surprised,  and  deeply  sympathized  with  the  distressed  mother. 

"Alas!"  said  Mrs.  Tripp,  "that  I  should  have  ever  lived  to  see 
this  day  ?  Who  would  have  ever  believed  it  possible  ?  That  Adela 
Tripp  should  have  eloped  with  a  man  whom  she  had  never  seen  a 
fortnight  since!  Of  whom  she  knows  next  to  nothing,  and  who 
is  mere  lieutenant  in  the  British  Army,  and  may  have  nothing  to 
support  her  with  but  his  pay.  Only  think  of  it,  Mrs.  Smith  !" 

"  My  dear  Mrs.  Tripp,"  replied  Mrs.  Smith,  "  Adela  has  indeed 
taken  a  most  unwise  step,  and  one,  I  fear,  she  will  live  to  sorrow 
over.  But  it  may  not  be  so.  Doyle  must  be  a  cadet  of  a  noble 
family,  or  he  would  not  be  in  the  Coldstream  Guards.  And 
he's  not  so  poor  a  man  as  officers  of  his  grade  usually  are,  or  he 
could  not  hold  his  place  there.  Have  you  seen  Col.  Green 
wood  ?" 

"  Oh,  no!  dear  Mrs.  Smith,"  said  Mrs.  Tripp, "  and  I  am  posi 
tively  ashamed  to  see  him.  Ashamed  of  having  such  a  daugh 
ter!  I  feel  most  deeply  mortified  at  her  conduct,  and  yet  I  must 
see  the  Colonel.  Will  you  ask  him  to  call  upon  me  after  breakfast, 
and  beg  him  to  come  and  see  me?  I  shall  not  leave  my  room;  I 
don't  feel  as  if  I  could  see  a  friend  in  the  world." 

Mr.  De  Lisle  now  entered,  and  surprised  at  the  looks  of  his 
friends,  and  Mrs.  Tripp  weeping  on  the  sofa,  he  asked  the  cause, 
and  as  Mrs.  Tripp  had  no  words  at  command,  Mrs.  Smith  told  him 
of  the  sad  tidings  of  the  elopement — news  which  seemed  as 
strange  to  him  as  to  his  friends.  After  condoling  with  the 
afflicted  lady,  and  promising  to  bring  Col.  Greenwood  to  see  her 
after  breakfast,  the  ladies  left,  and  Mrs.  Tripp  returned  to  her 
room. 

On  looking  in  the  glass,  she  found  her  eyes  were  as  swollen  and 
as  red  as  the  case  demanded  ;  for,  indeed,  she  had  spent  the  night 
in  tears  and  wakefulness,  and,  though  artful  and  unscrupulous,  she 
was  a  mother,  and  had  all  the  affections  of  one.  She  sat  in  deep 
study,  anticipating  the  visit  of  Col.  Greenwood,  which  she  felt 
must  be  a  trial  of  skill,  when  she  heard  his  step  in  the  entry; 
the  door  was  opened  by  the  maid,  and  the  colonel,  calm  and  self- 


COLONEL  GREENWOOD  AND  MRS.  TRIPP.  407 

possessed,  entered,  and  made  his  bow.  Mrs.  Tripp  motioned  him 
to  a  seat.  She  then  put  up  her  richest  laced  handkerchief  to  her 
eyes,  hoping  he  would, speak;  but  as  no  word  was  forthcoming, 
she  commenced  telling  of  her  agony,  her  unutterable  astonishment, 
and  then  gaining  courage  by  the  silence  of  the  colonel,  she  pro 
ceeded  with  fluency,  speaking  of  "Adela's  folly  in  relinquishing 
the  fondest  hopes  of  her  parents,  and  the  just  expectations  of  her 
friends,  for  the  pay  of  a  poor  lieutenancy — casting  herself  upon 
a  family  who  would  probably  forever  reject  her,  and  becoming  an 
outcast  in  a  foreign  land ;"  and  all  the  dismal  pictures  she  could 
imagine  in  the  darkest  colors.  She  paused,  and  Col.  Greenwood 
rose  to  go. 

"  Doyle  has  acted  like  a  d — d  fool !"  was  the  sententious  re 
ply  to  all  this  tale  of  woe.  It  was  certainly  very  equivocal,  and 
Mrs.  Tripp  would  gladly  have  heard  more  from  him,  but  he  left 
all  the  conversation  to  herself.  After  another  attempt,  she  really 
did  burst  into  tears,  and  Col.  Greenwood  expressed  his  deep  regret 
at  the  conduct  of  his  friend,  but  had  nothing  more  to  say,  and,  as 
Mrs.  Tripp  saw  nothing  was  gained  by  the  interview,  she  wept 
on,  and  Col.  Greenwood  took  his  leave. 

After  his  departure,  the  Van  Dams  and  Van  Tromps  called  in 
a  body  to  read  the  letter,  and  hear  the  distressing  news,  and 
Mrs.  Tripp  had  the  happiness,  for  once  in  her  life,  to  hear  with  her 
own  ears  their  honest  opinion  of  her  divine  Adela.  Happily  this 
was  interrupted  by  the  coming  in  of  Mr.  De  Lisle  and  Mrs.  Smith, 
who,  with  Grace,  begged  to  be  permitted  to  do  all  she  might  need 
attended  to,  before  her  departure.  While  they  were  thus  all  as 
sembled,  one  of  the  English  servants  brought  in  a  letter,  sealed 
with  the  arms  of  Doyle,  addressed  to  Mrs.  Tripp,  which  she 
opened.  It  was  a  very  brief  note — expressive  of  his  devotion  to 
Adela,  and  pledging  his  life  for  the  redemption  of  the  pledges  he 
had  the  honor  to  transmit  enclosed.  These  papers  were  the  cer 
tificates  of  his  marriage  to  Adela,  made  out  in  due  form  by  the 
Catholic  and  English  priests.  These  were  handed  round  the  cir 
cle,  and  carefully  examined  by  the  Van  Tromps  and  Van  Dams, 
especially  by  Katrine,  who  whispered  an  aside  to  Lucille,  "I  am 
glad  she's  lawfully  married.  It's  more  than  I  expected." 

After  these  kind  and  sympathizing  friends  had  gone,  Mrs. 
Smith  told  Mrs.  Tripp  that  Col.  Greenwood  had  just  left  them. 
That  he  was  disposed  to  censure  Doyle,  but  had  made  no  ex 
pression  casting  any  censure  upon  Adela.  What  he  may  have 
thought,  they  could  not  divine.  But  they  would  see  Adela  in 
their  journey  to  Quebec,  and  would  learn  all  they  could  as  to  his 
friends  and  family.  Adela  had  not  disgraced  herself  by  the  alli 
ance,  though  she  had  acted  most  rashly  in  making  it.  But  it 


408  PETER  SCHLEMIHL. 

might,  after  all,  be  a  happy  one.  They  had  made  no  inquiries  of 
Col.  Greenwood;  but  Mrs.  Smith  recollected  to  have  heard  him 
say,  when  speaking  of  Doyle,  that  he  was  a  good  fellow,  who 
spent  his  income  of  two  thousand  a  year,  even  in  the  snows  of 
Canada,  from  which  Mrs.  Smith  supposed  he  had  resources  inde 
pendent  of  his  pay.  But  though  this  was  good  news  to  Mrs. 
Tripp,  she  wondered,  if  it  were  true,  why  he  had  not  said  so  to 
Adeia;  but  Mrs.  Smith  and  Mr.  De  Lisle  both  believed  he  had 
purposely  omitted  to  do  so,  that  he  might  possess  himself  of  the 
highest  assurance  that  Adela's  choice  was  influenced  by  no  other 
motive  than  love  for  himself.  Whether  this  was  so  or  not,  still  the 
possibility  of  its  truth  had  a  happy  influence  upon  the  mind  of 
Mrs.  Tripp,  and  she  was  able  to  say  to  her  friends  the  full  extent 
of  her  wishes,  and  the  course  of  inquiry  she  wished  them  to  pur 
sue,  on  their  arrival  in  Canada. 

Mrs.  Smith,  finding  she  had  eaten  nothing,  ordered  a  cup  of 
coffee  and  some  toast,  and  helped  her  to  pack  up  the  few  things 
remaining  out  of  her  trunks.  These  were  dispatched  by  the  serv 
ants  to  the  cars,  and  when  Mr.  Thompson  called  for  Mrs.  Tripp, 
Mrs.  Smith  and  Grace,  and  Mr.  De  Lisle,  accompanied  her  to  the 
depot,  and  there  affectionately  took  leave  of  this  distressed  and 
bereaved  mother.  Mr.  Thompson  was  assiduous  in  his  attentions, 
and  could  not  but  admire  the  stern  self-control  Mrs.  Tripp  exercised 
over  her  feelings  under  these  trying  circumstances.  On  reaching 
the  steamer,  Mrs  Tripp  went  into  her  state-room,  and  re-examined 
the  certificates  of  marriage.  "  After  all,"  she  said  to  herself, "  this 
trip  to  the  springs  has  been  successful.  Adela  is  married,  legally 
married,  as  dear  Katrine  whispered,  to  an  officer  of  rank  and 
family — and  probably  to  wealth  equal  to  anything  she  could  have 
obtained.  Josephine  has  now  no  obstacle  in  the  way  to  coming 
up  with  all  the  prominence  necessary  to  a  settlement;  and  as  to 
Mr.  Winterbottom,  possibly  his  regrets  at  losing  the  one  may  in 
duce  him  to  seek  the  other.  The  Worths  will  visit  Adela,  and 
they  will  help  to  establish  her  in  the  confidence  of  her  circle  ;  this 
done,  I  have  no  fears  for  the  rest."  And  when  this  lady  had  come 
to  this  conclusion,  she  laid  herself  down,  and  waking,  once  more 
found  herself  in  Babylon  the  Less. 


MRS.  SMITH  LEAVES  THE  SPRINGS.  409 


CHAPTER  XVIII. 

Journey  of  Mrs.  Smith,  and  Grace,  and  Mr.  De  Lisle,  to  Niagara — A  Sabbath  in 
the  country — Colloquy  of  Mr.  De  Lisle  and  Mrs.  Smith  on  skepticism — The 
dilemma  of  skeptics — Arrive  at  the  Clifton  House — De  Lisle's  declaration 
to  Grace,  who  declines  his  hand — Her  reasons — Advice  of  Mrs.  Smith  to 
the  parties — Mr.  and  Mrs.  Gracie,  and  Jane,  and  her  "  cousin  Richard," 
join  Mrs.  Smith's  party — Colonel  Worth  and  wife  arrive — Quebec — Adela 
as  a  wife — The  travelers  return  to  Babylon — Grace  accepts  Mr.  De  Lisle ; 
tells  her  secret  to  Mrs.  Smith,  who  thereupon  determines  to  give  a  grand 
party — Mr.  Smith  refuses  his  consent — A  domestic  scene  consequent  there 
on. 

COLONEL  GREENWOOD  remained  a  week  after  the  departure  of 
Doyle  and  Adela.  His  manners  remained  unchanged  toward 
our  friends  ;  but  he  never  spoke  of  Doyle,  and  the  incident  of  the 
elopement  was  never  referred  to.  With  many  expressions  of 
thanks  for  the  attentions  which  had  made  his  visit  so  pleasant  to 
him,  he  took  leave  of  them. 

Mrs.  Smith  now  began  to  speak  of  leaving  the  springs,  where 
she  had  spent  four  weeks,  and  she  was  induced  to  shorten  her 
visit  at  the  entreaty  of  Grace.  Grace  had  no  love  for  its  balls, 
its  drawing-rooms,  nor  the  throng  of  idle  people,  who,  having 
found  out  the  attractions  of  Mrs.  Smith's  parlor,  wearied  her  with 
their  attentions,  and  their  frivolous  conversation.  So,  changing 
her  plan,  Mrs.  Smith  made  up  her  mind  of  going  from  one  point 
of  interest  to  another,  and  so  spending  the  time  which  must  inter 
vene,  before  Colonel  Worth's  return,  to  join  them  at  the  Falls  : 
a  decision  as  grateful  to  Mr.  De  Lisle  as  it  could  be  to  Grace ; 
for  the  constant  intrusion  of  society  into  Mrs.  Smith's  parlor,  the 
frequent  balls  and  concerts,  and  the  daily  rides  on  horseback  in 
company  with  Colonel  Greenwood,  had  left  but,  little  time  for 
him  to  see  either  Mrs.  Smith  or  Grace  by  themselves.  It  was 
a  great  gain  to  him,  to  have  these  ladies  under  his  especial  care, 
and  mainly  depending  on  him  for  society ;  for,  situated  as  he  had 
been,  with  instinctive  delicacy  he  had  avoided  all  direct  attentions 
to  Grace,  who  had  become  more  and  more  an  object  of  interest 
to  him,  and  who,  with  all  her  unaffected  sweetness  of  manners, 
was  evidently  embarrassed  by  any  increasing  devotedness  of  at 
tentions  on  his  part.  She  rewarded  him  always  by  her  entire 


410  PETER  SCHLEMIHL. 

attention  when  conversing  with  others,  but  when  alone,  she  could 
not,  without  effort,  sustain  her  share  of  the  conversation,  and 
never  appeared  so  well,  as  when  sustained  by  the  near  presence 
of  Mrs.  Smith,  who,  when  it  was  possible  for  her  to  do  so,  was 
always  at  hand,  to  help  Grace  out,  which  she  did  with  the  ut 
most  skill. 

Taking  leave  of  their  acquaintances,  they  set  out  on  Saturday 
afternoon  for  a  beautiful  village,  there  to  spend  the  Sabbath. 
This  was  Grace's  plan,  who  could  not  feel  there  could  be  a  Sab 
bath-day  at  the  springs.  They  reached  the  village  inn  before  sun 
set,  and  found  themselves  most  perfectly  accommodated.  The 
Lord's  day  was  a  day  of  quiet;  the  very  leaves  on  the  trees 
seemed  sleeping.  The  sun  shone  brightly,  and  the  cattle  were 
to  be  seen  in  the  shade  of  the  trees,  in  every  direction,  looking  as 
grave  as  so  many  ruminating  philosophers.  To  Grace  the 
change  was  delightful,  and  to  Mrs.  Smith  and  Mr.  De  Lisle,  it 
was  grateful.  At  ten  they  all  went  to  the  neat  village  church,  the 
clear  tones  of  whose  bell  alone  broke  the  serenity  and  stillness 
of  the  hour.  The  meeting  house,  (for  it  was  not  a  *'  church") 
was  of  wood,  neatly  finished,  and  had  its  choir,  and  all  the  requi 
sites  for  the  worship  of  God ;  of  which  most  of  all  our  southern 
inland  places  of  worship,  of  all  sects,  unhappily,  are  wanting. 

The  sermon  was  a  pious  and  excellent  discourse,  delivered  in 
an  impressive  manner.  The  design  of  the  preacher  was  to  show 
"that  it  is  the  object  of  divine  wisdom  to  make  every  age  incul 
cate  some  great  moral  and  religious  truth."  The  subject  was 
pursued  through  both  discourses.  And  so  ended  the  public  ser 
vices  of  the  day. 

Mr.  De  Lisle  and  Grace,  since  their  conversation  with  Mrs. 
Smith,  of  which  we  have  already  spoken,  had  found  no  suitable 
opportunity  of  speaking  with  her,  and  re-opening  the  subject  then 
begun.  Indeed,  Adela  Tripp  had,  since  the  departure  of  Mr. 
Winterbottom,  assiduously  beset  Grace  with  her  music  and  her 
walks;  and  then  Colonel  Greenwood's  rides,  and  then  the  atten 
tions  of  some  dozen  young  gentlemen,  who  would  not  be  refused, 
at  least,  the  pleasure  of  dancing  attendance  on  her  steps,  go  where 
she  would,  had  hardly  left  the  girl  any  more  time  than  was  abso 
lutely  required  to  make  her  toilet  at  the  proper  times,  for  break 
fast  and  dinner,  and  for  her  rides,  whenever  they  took  place. 
So  she  was  under  constant  requisitions  from  the  demands  of 
society,  and  Mrs.  Smith,  and  Mr.  De  Lisle,  and  Grace  rarely 
met,  except  in  the  presence  of  others.  This,  then,  was  the  first 
Sabbath  they  could  be  said  to  have  spent  together. 

They  supped  immediately,  on  their  return  from  church,  and 
as  the  sun  was  setting,  they  took  a  long  walk,  during  which  Mr. 


A  SABBATH  IN  THE  COUNTRY.  411 

De  Lisle  endeavored  to  draw  Mrs.  Smith's  attention  to  various 
subjects,  not  inappropriate  to  the  day,  nor  the  hour;  but  she  evi 
dently  wished  to  avoid  the  recurrence  to  any  topic  which  could 
be  brought  home  to  her  own  history.  Her  mind  was  indeed  un 
hinged,  so  to  speak,  by  the  gayeties  of  the  springs,  and  she  thought 
De  Lisle  would  be  to  her  a  Savonarola,  arid  she  knew,  that  like 
Lorenzo  de  Medici,  if  she  were  in  the  act  of  dying,  there  were  some 
things  she  could  not  and  would  not  relinquish.  But  finding  it 
hard  to  keep  Mr.  De  Lisle  in  abeyance,  she  was  desirous  of  being 
"  let  off,"  upon  some  mere  speculations  in  theology,  and  finding 
no  better  topic,  she  recurred  to  the  sermon.  As  this  conversation 
was  one  of  interest  to  Mrs.  Smith  and  her  companion,  we  hope 
our  readers  may  find  it  well  worth  their  perusal,  and  it  is  there 
fore  preserved. 

"  Do  you  approve  of  the  position  taken  by  our  preacher  ?"  in 
quired  Mrs.  Smith  of  Mr.  De  Lisle. 

"  Yes,  I  think  it  is  a  correct  one,"  was  his  reply. 

"  Do  you  not  hold,  then,"  continued  Mrs.  Smith,  "  the  revela 
tion  of  Christ  is  incomplete  ?" 

"  By  no  means,"  said  Mr.  De  Lisle;  "  I  deem  the  minister  cor 
rect  in  saying,  '  for  every  age  some  great  truth  has  its  peculiar 
appropriateness,'  and  God  has  allowed  the  Gospel  to  come  in 
conflict  with  all  the  diversified  forms  of  human  sin  and  folly;  to 
teach  us  that  it  contains  the  remedy  for  every  possible  form  of 
error  and  evil,  and  to  make  this  very  conflict  the  means  of  ren 
dering  more  and  more  perfect  the  manner  of  conceiving  and  pre 
senting  its  doctrines.  In  the  first  ages,  the  Christian  faith,  not 
having  yet  insinuated  itself  into  the  feelings  and  modes  of  think 
ing  of  the  early  Christians,  we  see  the  constant  struggle  between 
the  free  grace  of  the  Gospel,  and  the  disposition  to  depend  on 
legal  observances.  In  the  second,  we  see  the  Gospel  in  conflict 
with  various  philosophical  systems,  some  irreconcilably  opposed 
to  it,  others  attempting  an  amalgamation  with  it,  but  none  of  them 
rendering  theology  at  once  biblical  and  philosophical.  In  the 
middle  ages,  we  see  the  corrupted  faith  and  imperfect  philosophy 
of  the  earlier  periods,  degenerating  into  superstition,  equally  de 
structive  of  genuine  faith  and  true  philosophy.  In  the  age  of  the 
reformation,  religion  and  knowledge  appear  anew.  The  doc 
trines  which  distinguished  this  period,  were  truly  evangelical,  and 
the  theological  systems,  biblical,  but  not  entirely  free  from  the 
fetters  of  the  old  philosophy.  To  this  succeeded  the  period  of 
strenuous  orthodoxy,  and  vital  piety  again  declined,  leaving  no 
thing  but  the  form  of  biblical  knowledge  ;  and  even  this  being  des 
titute  of  the  vital  principle,  was  less  perfect  than  it  was  among 
the  reformers.  The  period  of  pietism  followed — and  orthodoxy 


412  PETER  SCHLEMIHL. 

was  again  endued  with  life,  and  restored  to  the  form  in  which  it 
was  held  by  the  reformers,  but  not  improved.  The  next  period 
was  that  of  the  theoretical  and  practical  infidelity,  and  piety,  on 
the  Continent  especially,  declined  in  the  Protestant  Church.  But 
since  the  commencement  of  this  century,  it  has  revived,  and  been 
made  to  rest  on  the  leading  doctrines  of  the  Bible.  Theology 
is  now  pervaded  by  a  spirit  of  true  religion,  and  is  so  advanced, 
in  the  opinion  of  Tholuck,  the  first  of  theologians  of  the  present 
day,  whose  views  I  have  now  briefly  given  you,  that  it  has  no 
thing  to  fear  from  its  opposers.  Thus,  though  there  is  no  new 
revelation,  the  relations  and  bearings  of  truths  may  be  said  to 
be,  at  the  present  time,  properly  understood." 

"  But,"  said  Mrs.  Smith,  "  you  acknowledged,  the  other  day, 
that  the  enigmas  of  life  have  never  been  solved  !  Do  you  think 
they  ever  will  be  ?" 

"  Probably,  they  never  will  be,"  replied  Mr.  De  Lisle.  "And 
yet,  it  may  be,  and  I  think  will  be,  that  many  of  the  questionings 
of  the  present  day  will  be  met  by  the  development  of  God's  pro 
vidence.  As  yet,  the  world  is  in  its  infancy.  The  revolution  of 
centuries  will  make  many  of  the  dark  designs  of  the  Almighty, 
as  we  now  call  them,  clear  as  the  noonday  sun." 

"  Lavater,"  said  Grace,  to  whom  Mr.  De  Lisle  addressed  him 
self  as  he  closed  the  sentence,  "  used  to  say  it  was  the  highest 
of  all  Christian  attainments  to  be  able  to  say — '/  can  wait.' 
Dear  Mrs.  Smith,  we  must  strive  to  possess  that  temper  of  mind, 
and  to  say  to  all  the  suggestions  of  our  skeptical  hearts,  '  God  is 
true,  and  I  can  wait?  ' 

"  My  dearest  Grace,"  said  Mrs.  Smith,  "  you  have  imposed  a 
severe  task.  '/  can't  wait.1 ' 

"  But,  dear  Mrs.  Smith,"  replied  Mr.  De  Lisle,  "  what  better 
can  you  do?  Here  we  are  !  Man  finds  himself  in  this  world  on 
an  isolated  point;  he  knows  not  whence  he  comes,  nor  whither 
he  goes  ;  he  knows  nothing  but  the  spot  upon  which  he  awoke, 
and  upon  which  he  is  soon  to  close  his  eyes  forever.  Now,  such 
is  the  skeptic.  And  such  would  be  the  condition  of  every  man, 
were  he  not,  by  faith,  able  to  rise  above  himself  and  this  4  dreary 
life  ;'  he  would  have  nothing  to  do  but,  with  a  high-minded  calm 
ness,  to  resign  all  hope  of  attaining  the  end  to  which  Nature 
prompts  him  to  aspire.  As  the  world  and  God,  eternity  and  time, 
annihilation  and  salvation,  are  the  great  conflicting  points  upon 
which  human  life  turns,  the  ground  and  centre  of  the  conflict  lie 
in  the  struggle  between  faith  and  unbelief." 

44  Alas!"  interrupted  Mrs.  Smith,  4i  what  a  fearful  conflict  it  is. 
How  many  hearts  have  sunk  into  despair  in  the  fierceness  of  the 
struggle  they  have  felt  in  their  souls,  or  have  sought  for  a  respite 


DILEMMA  OF  SKEPTICS.  413 

in  all  the  busy  occupations  of  life,  or  in  gratifications  and  amuse 
ments  of  society — a  respite,  but  not  a  release." 

Grace  and  Mr.  De  Lisle  exchanged  glances,  as  both  recalled 
their  conversation  in  the  ball-room. 

Mr.  De  Lisle,  addressing  himself  to  Mrs.  Smith,  continued: — 
"  The  contemplation  of  this  struggle  must  either  have  the  tend 
ency  to  bring  us  to  a  more  elevated  consciousness  of  the  high 
destiny  to  which  God  has  called  us,  or  to  the  expectation  of  the 
bottomless  abyss  of  unconscious  existence,  which  is  the  result  of 
all  logical  infidelity.  Infidelity,  my  dear  madam,  in  its  widest 
sense,  is  a  disposition  which  leads  us  to  admit  nothing  as  true 
which  is  not  the  result  of  our  own  reasonings  or  deductions  ; — 
faith,  on  the  other  hand,  is  that  disposition  which,  influenced  either 
by  an  outward  or  inward  necessity,  admits  as  true  what  is  not, 
merely  by  logical  inference,  rendered  certain.  These  definitions 
being  stated,  the  great  question  here  presents  itself — What  is  the 
result  to  which  we  are  led,  when  we  logically  pursue  the  path  of 
skepticism — that  is,  when  we  are  determined  to  form  a  logical 
system  respecting  human  and  divine  things,  with  no  other  guide 
than  speculation  ?  There  is  something  in  the  breast  of  every  man 
which  leads  him  to  believe,  whether  he  wishes  it  or  not.  Is  it 
not  so?" 

"  But,"  said  Mrs.  Smith,  "  I  had  supposed  this  was  the  result 
of  education." 

"  No,  madam,  this  principle  is  founded  in  the  nature  of  man ; 
but  there  is  also  in  our  fallen  nature,  something  which  prompts 
to  skepticism.  And  as  the  evil  in  our  nature  (until  restored  by 
the  Holy  Spirit  in  regeneration)  prevails  over  the  good,  the  tend 
ency  to  unbelief  is  more  powerful  than  the  tendency  to  faith. 
Yet  the  tendency  to  faith  constantly  opposes  itself  to  the  contrary 
disposition.  Hence  it  is,  there  are  so  few  who  pursue  skepticism 
to  its  legitimate  results,  and  that  there  are  so  few  thorough  systems 
of  infidelity  in  the  world." 

"  If  it  be  not  tasking  you  too  much,"  said  Grace,  "  will  you 
please  tell  us  (for  it  is  a  most  important  inquiry),  what  is  the  re 
sult  of  all  logical  speculation,  when  we  resolve  to  follow  no  other 
guide  ?  Should  you  not  like  to  know,  my  dear  Mrs.  Smith?" 

"  I  should,  indeed,"  said  Mrs.  Smith.  *'  I  have  heard  a  great 
deal  of  what  is  called  reasoning,  in  my  time,  but  I  don't  recollect 
to  have  heard  that  question  answered." 

"  It  may  not  be  so  easily  answered  as  it  is  asked,"  said  Mr. 
De  Lisle,  smiling,  to  Grace,  "  but  it  is  obvious  that  it  must 
commence  with  some  first  principles,  or  intuitive  truths.  The 
point,  therefore,  from  which  it  starts,  must  be  consciousness — the 
consciousness  of  existence.  But  this  is  not  a  consciousness  of 


414  PETER  SCHLEMIHL. 

independent  existence,  but  of  an  existence  depending  and  ground 
ed  upon  something  else.  Hence,  the  speculator,  in  the  conscious 
ness  of  his  own  existence,  is,  at  the  same  time,  conscious  of  the 
existence  of  an  original  existence,  upon  which  his  own  is  founded. 
As  soon  as  the  argumentation  is  commenced,  a  dilemma  presents 
itself,  which,  according  as  the  one  or  other  side  is  assumed,  de 
cides  upon  all  human  and  divine  things.  This  dilemma  is  as  fol 
lows  : — First,  my  present  being  presents  itself  as  a  person ;  that 
is,  as  possessed  of  self-efficiency;  for,  if  it  be  a  person,  it  is  self- 
active,  having  no  other  grounds  of  action  than  itself;  but,  secondly, 
I  am  conscious  that  my  being  and  actions  are  dependent  and  re 
stricted,  that  the  remote  ground  of  my  activity  is  not  myself,  but 
in  the  original  existence.  How  can  these  things  be  reconciled  ? 
If  there  be  an  original  existence,  unlimited  and  independent,  upon 
which  conditions  all  the  other  existences  depend,  there  can  be  no 
agent  out  of  him,  which  has,  in  itself,  the  last  ground  of  its  actions. 
For  if  the  original  existence  is  the  necessary  condition  of  the  ac 
tion  of  other  existences,  it  is  the  only  agent. 

"  Now,  since  this  original  existence  is  active,  and  in  so  far  as 
it  is  the  condition  of  all  other  existences,  it  is  not  a  mere  lifeless 
substratum,  but  is  the  living  principle  in  all  that  is ; — all  inde 
pendent,  active  existence,  out  of  the  original,  is  an  impossibility. 
On  the  other  hand,  when  I  assume  as  incontrovertible  my  indivi 
dual  personal  existence,  if  I  regard  every  individual  as  a  being 
which  has,  in  itself,  the  last  ground  of  its  actions,  as  self-efficient, 
then  the  original  existence  is  not  unrestricted,  since  the  individual 
efficients  necessarily  limit  and  restrict  the  efficiency  of  the  ori 
ginal  existence,  each,  after  its  own  way,  conditioning  its  activity. 
Hence  it  appears,  that  the  speculator  is  encountered,  at  the  very 
outset,  by  the  riddle  of  individual  responsibility.  If  he  will  nei 
ther  renounce  this  personality,  nor  the  illimitableness  of  God's 
efficiency,  he  must  be  content  to  hold  both  sides  of  a  contradic 
tion,  or  turn  believer,  that  is,  receive  something  as  true,  which  is 
not  the  result  of  speculation  or  argumentative  deduction,  but  that  is 
inconsistent  with  the  goal  which  he  had  placed  before  himself."* 

Mrs.  Smith,  after  a  moment's  silence,  looked  up,  and  smiled, 
and  then  again  looked  unusually  grave.  She  spoke,  at  last,  with 
a  sigh — "  I  believe  I  must  confess  to  you,  my  dear  friends,  that  I 
need  no  such  course  of  argument  to  show  me  the  stupidity  of 
skepticism  ;  and  that  the  only  objection,  of  which  I  am  conscious, 
to  the  truth  of  the  Holy  Scriptures,  as  Lord  Rochester  said  to 
Bishop  Burnet,  on  his  death-bed,  *  is  a  wicked  heart.''  Alas  ! 
that  I  should  be  compelled  to  say  so!" 

*  Tholuck. 


DE  LISLE  AND  GRACE  WORTH.  415 

"  Dear  Mrs.  Smith,"  said  Grace,  earnestly,  "  your  heart  is  no 
more  wicked  than  mine.  We  are  all  alike  depraved,  and  by  na 
ture  our  hearts  are  *  enmity  to  God.'  r 

"Oh!  no,  Grace,"  replied  Mrs.  Smith,  "you  were  born  into 
the  world  an  angel. — Was  she  not,  Mr.  De  Lisle  ?  I  will  leave 
you  to  decide  between  us.  I  am  sure  it  won't  need  the  course 
of  argument  by  which  you  have  shown  how  great  a  fool  is  he 
who  says,  in  his  heart,  or  out  of  it- — '  There  is  no  God.'  " 

Mr.  De  Lisle,  with  a  look  of  admiring  affection,  replied — 
"  Though  I  am  willing  to  assign  any  position  to  our  dear  Miss 
Worth,  in  which  your  love  or  affection  can  by  possibility  place 
her,  yet  I  doubt  not  she  well  knows,  and  is  grateful  to  acknow 
ledge  the  truth,  that '  it  is  the  grace  of  God  which  has  made  her 
what  she  is.' " 

Mrs.  Smith,  having  little  else  to  do,  became  an  attentive  ob 
server  of  the  growing  attachment  every  day  manifested  by  Mr. 
De  Lisle  for  her  dear  Grace;  but  she  was  utterly  at  loss  to  know 
what  was  passing  in  this  artless  girl's  bosom.  The  assurance 
she  felt  in  her  entire  innocence  of  all  guile,  and  the  inexplicable 
shrinking  manifested  by  Grace  when  approached  by  Mr.  De 
Lisle,  made  Grace  an  enigma  to  Mrs.  Smith,  whose  curiosity 
was  restrained  by  her  love  for  Grace  and  her  respect  for  Mr.  De 
Lisle.  She  wrote  Mrs.  Worth  letters,  to  meet  her  at  Detroit  on 
her  return,  of  all  that  was  transpiring,  and  all  she  felt  it  was  due 
for  her  to  know  concerning  her  child.  She  was  certain  the 
Worths  would  rejoice  if  Grace  could  love  Mr.  De  Lisle,  and  felt 
confident  that  love  would  finally  triumph.  Indeed  she  could  not 
but  believe  Grace  did  love  Mr.  De  Lisle,  though  she  was  so  won 
derfully  successful  in  concealing  it  in  her  own  heart. 

Mrs.  Smith  was  at  the  time  ignorant  of  the  course  adopted 
by  Mr.  De  Lisle.  Before  the  colonel  and  Mrs.  Worth  left  the 
springs,  he  had  expressed  to  Mrs.  Worth  his  wishes  to  win  the 
affections  of  her  daughter,  if  it  were  possible  for  him  to  do  so ; 
if  a  union  with  one  so  much  in  advance  of  her  in  point  of  age, 
was  not  an  insuperable  objection.  Mrs.  Worth  had  replied  that 
the  difference  in  their  ages  would  not  be  an  objection,  if  it  should 
appear  that  he  could  truly  and  fully  enlist  the  affections  of  her 
child,  though  she  thought  this  might  be  doubtful,  and  he  must 
entertain  no  hopes  from  their  acquiescence.  Whoever  Grace 
could  love,  if  worthy  of  her  as  a  man  and  a  Christian,  would  be 
their  choice. 

All  that  Mrs.  Smith  felt  it  fitting  for  her  to  do  for  the  advance 
ment  of  what  she  knew  must  be  the  wish  of  Mr.  De  Lisle,  and 
what  she  hoped  would  be  the  happiness  of  Grace,  was  to  give 


416  PETER  SCHLEMIHL. 

him  her  support  and  countenance  to  all  the  courtesies  and  atten 
tions  which  it  was  proper  for  him  to  pay  and  for  Grace  to  receive. 

As  they  traveled  slowly  towards  Niagara,  visiting  all  the 
places  of  interest  in  their  way,  opportunities  were  constantly  pre 
sented  for  Mr.  De  Lisle  to  cultivate  the  confidence  and  awaken 
the  love  of  Grace.  He  was  himself  often  embarrassed  and  ex 
cessively  timid  in  the  presence  of  this  young  girl,  as  it  appeared 
to  Mrs.  Smith,  who  could  not  understand  his  fears  lest  the  dis 
parity  of  their  ages  should  prove  an  insurmountable  barrier; 
which  Mr.  De  Lisle  felt  was  the  true  cause  of  all  the  restraint 
towards  him  evinced  by  Grace,  and  he  would  justify  her  repug 
nance,  and  often  fully  determined  forever  to  relinquish  all  purpose 
of  winning  her  love ;  and  when  he  assumed  the  course  of  con 
duct  which  such  sentiments  naturally  suggested,  he  saw  with 
pain  that  Grace  resumed  an  ease  of  manners  which  was  instantly 
checked  by  the  first  impulse  which  his  love  prompted  in  a  change 
of  his  deportment,  so  that  he  was  more  and  more  confirmed  in 
the  hopelessness  of  ever  winning  her  affections. 

They  now  had  reached  the  Falls,  and  wishing  to  avoid  the 
crowd,  went  over  to  the  Canada  side,  and  took  rooms  and  a  parlor 
at  the  Clifton  House,  where  there  were  but  few  boarders.  Here 
their  time  passed  away  pleasantly  in  reading  and  riding,  and  the 
little  duties  which  devolve  even  upon  travelers.  The  Falls  grew 
in  their  grandeur — they  began  to  be  felt  in  all  the  majesty  of  their 
might,  as  seen  day  by  day,  in  all  the  different  aspect  of  sunshine 
and  moonlight ;  and  the  roar  of  waters  became,  to  their  listening 
ears,  the  sweetest,  deepest,  grandest  of  diapasons.  It  was  the  ever 
lasting  hymn  of  praise  to  the  Creator,  to  whom  the  cloud  of  in 
cense  was  forever  ascending  from  the  great  altar  of  nature. 

A  party,  consisting  of  ladies  and  gentlemen  from  the  south, 
whose  acquaintance  they  had  made  at  the  springs,  now  joined 
them,  and  were  a  great  acquisition  to  their  society. 

It  is  one  of  the  pleasures  of  traveling  to  meet  with  members  of 
society  living  in  distant  states,  and  to  discover  the  existence  of 
the  same  sentiments  which  we  venerate  and  cherish,  governing 
and  controlling  them  as  well  as  ourselves.  This  is  the  bond  of 
brotherhood  which  can  never  be  broken.  This  is  the  true  bond 
of  union  which  no  dissensions  of  party  can  sever. 

After  a  day  so  unusually  warm,  that  the  entire  company  at  the 
Clifton  House  were  compelled  to  remain  in  the  shade  until  sun 
set,  they  all  set  out  for  a  walk,  and  returning,  took  seats  where 
they  could  best  witness  the  lunar  rainbow  over  the  fall.  The 
party  were  gay  and  delighted  with  all  they  saw.  Indeed,  it  was 
a  luxury  to  feel  the  coolness  of  the  evening  air,  and  while  the 
attention  of  Grace  was  absorbed  by  Mr.  De  Lisle,  the  party  one 


DE  LISLE'S  DECLARATION  OF  LOVE.  417 

by  one  had  sought  a  higher  point  of  view  of  the  Falls,  leaving 
Grace  unconscious  that  she  was  left  alone  listening  to  Mr.  De 
Lisle.  So  soon  as  she  discovered  it,  she  expressed  her  surprise, 
and  looking  around  found  the  party  were  gone,  and  out  of  sight. 
She  rose,  and  said  to  Mr.  De  Lisle,  "Shall  we  not  rejoin  our 
friends?" 

De  Lisle  felt  he  had  everything  to  gain,  and  that  he  had  too  long 
suffered  from  that  extremity  of  misery  which  Lord  Bacon  has 
said,  is  "the  swing  of  the  pendulum,"  and  taking  her  hand, 
begged  her  to  stay  a  few  moments  longer.  Her  hand  trembled 
in  his,  and  she  re-seated  herself. 

"My  dear  Miss  Worth,"  said  Mr.  De  Lisle,  in  a  tone  of  voice 
tremulous  with  intense  emotion,  "I  have  asked  you  to  remain  a 
few  moments  with  me — to  me  the  most  momentous  of  my  life. 
I  have  sought  to  detain  you,  that  I  might  avow  the  love  I  cherish 
for  you — a  love  which  has  taken  full  possession  of  my  soul,  and 
which  I  now  dare  to  express  with  many  fears  it  will  not  be  re 
ciprocated.  But  I  would  know  this  from  your  lips.  I  will  not 
distress  you  by  pressing  upon  you  attentions  which  may  be  to 
you  painful ;  but,  O !  if  I  can  be  so  happy  as  to  gain  your  love, 
the  highest  hopes  of  earth  will  all  be  realized." 

Grace  sat  silent,  her  hand  still  trembling,  and  Mr.  De  Lisle,  en 
couraged  by  her  silence,  continued — 

"My  dear  Grace,  I  have  long  sought  to  secure  the  love  of  one 
who  would  fulfil  the  fondest  wishes  of  my  heart.  Woman,  to 
me,  has  ever  been  the  ideal  of  all  that  is  lovely.  I  have  ever  been 
an  admirer  of  female  loveliness — not  of  feature  and  of  form, 
though  I  am  not  insensible  to  the  witchery  of  beauty,  but  I  have 
sought  rather  for  those  charms  which  are  expressed  by  goodness 
of  heart,  gentleness  of  soul — that  sincere  sympathy  with  the 
beautiful  and  the  good,  which  gives  lustre  to  beauty  and  is  to  me 
the  perfection  of  female  excellence.  I  have  often  wished  to  find 
the  beau  ideal  of  my  soul.  You  will  not  think  it  strange  if  the 
search  has  been  one  of  difficulty  and  delicacy,  and  that  I  have  too 
often  found  the  semblance  of  all  these  attractions  where  I  have 
hoped  to  find  the  reality,  and  the  graces  of  manner  have  proved 
but  the  gilding  of  refined  society,  based  upon  no  firm  principles, 
or  religious  sentiment. 

"  I  have  never  envied  men  their  talents,  or  their  distinctions,  or 
their  wealth.  I  have  inherited  and  acquired  all  that  my  view  of 
life  has  rendered  desirable ;  but  the  love  of  a  pure  and  pious  wo 
man  has  ever  been  the  first  wish  of  my  heart.  I  have  long  since 
submitted  my  wishes  to  the  will  of  God,  and  in  an  unexpected 
hour,  by  a  combination  of  circumstances  in  which  I  see,  with 
27 


418  PETER  SCHLEMIHL. 

hope,  the  leadings  of  a  divine  Providence,  I  have  been  led  to  cul 
tivate  your  acquaintance. 

"  Our  meeting,  you  will,  perhaps,  remember,  at  Mrs.  Smith's 
party — as  I  have  since  learned,  the  first  you  had  ever  attended ; 
to  me  it  was  an  hour  of  sunshine  and  of  hope,  and  it  is  now  for 
you  to  say,  dearest  Grace,  if  those  hopes,  the  wishes  of  my  whole 
life,  are  to  be  realized,  or  forever  relinquished." 

Doctor  Johnson  said  of  Dr.  Dodd,  whose  appeal  to  the  king 
for  a  pardon  is  among  the  most  splendid  efforts  ever  made,  "  That 
when  men's  lives  are  at  stake,  they  never  fail  to  be  eloquent." 
The  pathos  in  which  these  words  were  expressed  made  them  far 
more  effective  than  the  words  would  seem,  in  themselves,  capable 
of  being.  And  certainly,  the  effect  upon  Grace  was  as  unex 
pected  to  Mr.  De  Lisle,  as,  at  the  moment,  they  were  inexplica 
ble;  but,  as  Shakspeare  had  said — "  An  honest  tale  speeds  best, 
being  plainly  told,"  and  as  we  purpose  that  our  narrative  shall 
be  true  to  nature,  we  must  go  on,  though  we  may  shock  the  sen 
sibilities  of  many  of  our  fair  readers,  who  may  have  had  a  quite 
contrary  experience  in  these  matters ;  but  so  it  was — 

Grace  made  an  attempt  to  speak,  and  burst  into  tears.  All  un 
conscious  of  everything  but  her  emotions,  she  permitted  Mr.  De 
Lisle  to  draw  her  towards  him,  and  rested  her  head  on  his  shoul 
der,  and  wept  to  her  heart's  content.  Mr.  De  Lisle  was  delighted 
with  the  confidence  reposed  in  him,  and  though  hardly  knowing 
why  these  tears  should  have  arisen,  he  tried  to  soothe  her  agitation, 
and  to  tell  "  of  the  increasing  pleasure  with  which  he  had  sought 
her  society;  the  certainty  he  felt  of  her  principles;  and  of  his 
having  discovered  in  the  depths  of  her  soul  all  the  treasures  he 
longed  to  possess,  and  of  his  fears  that  he  should  never  inspire 
the  love  beating  in  every  throb  of  his  heart." 

Grace  recovered  herself  and  her  position,  and  dried  up  her 
tears  ;  and,  after  one  or  two  failures,  she  was  able  to  say — 

"  I  am  but  too,  too  grateful  for  the  high,  the  very  high  and  un 
merited  expression  of  your  respect — your  confidence — esteem — 
your  love — "  she  hesitated,  and,  by  a  great  effort  of  self-control, 
went  on:  "I  am — I  know  it — unfitted  to  share  with  you  the  rela 
tionships  of  life.  Oh  !  no,  no,  you  could  not,  and  would  not  find  in 
me  the  being  you  seek.  I  am  no  way  able  to  realize  your  ideal 
— and  for  me  to  fail,  would  render  me  miserable  for  life." 

De  Lisle  now  found  words  full  of  fondness  and  affection,  and 
though  Grace  made  no  reply,  she  listened.  It  is  easy  for  a  man 
to  speak  when  the  only  obstacles  are  such  as  he  deems  mere 
mole-hills  in  the  pathway  of  his  highest  aspirations  ;  but,  to  his 
sorrow,  he  found  Grace  was  now,  with  all  her  gentleness,  firm 
and  collected.  She  assured  him  that  she  had  fully  made  up  her 


DE  LISLE  AND  GRACE  WORTH.  419 

mind  never  to  be  united  to  one  whose  superiority  would  be  an 
insurmountable  barrier  to  sympathy  of  pursuits.  She  had  seen 
too  much  of  life,  young  as  she  was,  not  to  be  conscious  of  the 
wretchedness  of  a  woman  who  ceased  to  be  the  companion  of 
her  husband  ;  and  to  such  a  condition,  no  temptation  of  ambition 
could  blind  her.  She  well  knew  Mr.  De  Lisle  was  ignorant  of 
her  mental  culture — she  might  have  unconsciously  concealed  this 
from  him,  and  been  unwilling  that  he  should  know  how  little 
like  the  being  he  would  love,  and  could  love,  she  knew  herself  to 
be.  But  now  she  would,  at  every  sacrifice  of  her  own  self-love, 
wear  no  disguise,  if  so  it  had  been ;  he  should  see  that  he  had 
been  mistaken  in  his  too  kind,  and  false  appreciation  of  her  cha 
racter.  It  would  be  justice  to  him  to  reveal  herself  as  she  knew 
herself  to  be.  It  might  be  an  unpleasant  effort  on  her  part,  but 
one  which  could  not  but  satisfy  him  that  with  her  views  of  the 
first  requisites  of  married  life,  his  wishes  never  could  be  met  by 
her." 

Such,  in  brief,  were  Grace's  replies  to  Mr.  De  Lisle.  That 
they  were  entirely  unsatisfactory — that  he  was  sure  she  formed 
far  too  high  an  estimate  of  himself,  and  depreciated  herself,  mak 
ing  a  wide  separation  of  thoughts,  feelings,  tastes,  while  he  was 
sure  there  existed  the  closest  sympathy  of  sentiment, — and  all 
such  course  of  remarks,  will  so  naturally  occur  to  our  readers, 
that  we  need  not  repeat  them,  only  so  far  as  to  say,  they  made 
no  change  in  Grace. 

Having  afforded  Mr.  De  Lisle  all  the  opportunity  he  could  de 
sire,  listening  with  the  utmost  kindness  and  respect  to  all  he  had 
to  say,  Grace  rose,  and  Mr.  De  Lisle,  following  her  example,  said — 

"  Dear  Grace,  is  this  the  last  time  I  may  be  permitted  to  ad 
dress  you  on  this  subject?" 

44 1  beg  it  may  be,"  said  Grace.  "  It  cannot  but  be  as  hope 
less  for  you  as  it  would  be  distressing  to  me — and  on  this  ques 
tion  my  mind  is  made  up." 

She  offered  to  take  his  arm,  which,  till  now,  she  had  never 
accepted  without  some  degree  of  embarrassment,  and  Mr.  De 
Lisle  and  Grace  walked  in  silence  back  to  the  Clifton  House. 
As  they  entered  the  parlor,  they  found  the  party  had  returned, 
and  were  assembled  in  full  tide  of  playful  chat.  Mrs.  Smith  dis 
covered,  from  the  looks  both  of  Grace  and  Mr.  De  Lisle,  that 
some  disclosure  had  taken  place,  for  they  sat  in  silence,  and  Mr. 
De  Lisle  in  a  fit  of  deep  abstraction. 

When  the  party  broke  up  and  went  to  their  rooms,  Grace  ac 
companied  Mrs.  Smith  to  her  chamber,  and,  for  the  first  time  in 
her  life,  made  a  full  disclosure  of  the  state  of  her  heart,  and  of 
the  declaration  of  Mr.  De  Lisle.  She  concluded  by  saying — 


420  PETER  SCHLEMIHL. 

"  My  mother  has  placed  me  under  your  kind  care,  and  directed 
me  to  advise  with  you  as  I  would  have  done  with  herself.  I 
deem  it  due  to  Mr.  De  Lisle,  and  I  need  it  for  myself,  to  ask  your 
counsel,  and  to  tell  me  if  I  have  deported  myself  towards  him 
with  all  truthfulness  and  delicacy."  She  expressed,  frankly,  her 
admiration  for  the  talents  and  principles  of  Mr.  De  Lisle,  and  her 
deep  consciousness  of  her  inability  ever  to  sustain  the  preference 
he  had  expressed,  and  her  convictions  that  such  unions  were,  of 
all  others,  the  most  miserable  a  woman  can  form. 

Mrs.  Smith  listened  with  all  the  sympathy  of  one  whose  heart 
had  in  itself  deeply  suffered  from  the  alienation  of  a  husband's 
sympathies.  She  knew  the  truthfulness  of  all  Grace  had  said ; 
but  she  felt  her  young  friend  had  undervalued  herself;  that  she 
had  set  her  standard  too  high,  and  that  it  was  neither  desirable 
nor  possible  that  a  wife  should  keep  pace  with  the  intellectual 
culture  of  a  husband,  especially  a  professional  gentleman,  how 
ever  desirable  this  might  be. 

She  expressed  these  views  to  Grace,  and  endeavored  to  show 
the  hopelessness  of  her  expectancy  of  finding  just  such  a  hus 
band  as  she  had  imagined  to  suit  herself.  That  though  they 
might  commence  life  at  the  same  point,  the  parallelism  could 
never  be  sustained.  She  told  her  the  story  of  her  dear  friend 
Helen,  of  the  sacrifice  she  made  of  life  itself,  in  the  fruitless  task 
of  keeping  up  with  the  acquirements  of  her  lover,  and  that  she 
must,  and  ought  to  be  content  to  submit  to  the  conditions  of  life 
in  which  God  and  society  placed  her.  That  the  spheres  in 
which  husbands  and  wives  were  destined  to  move,  the  duties 
they  were  required  to  perform,  were  essentially  different;  and 
the  bond  of  union  was  love  and  sympathy,  which  both  equally 
required  of  the  other,  and  which  were,  in  a  good  degree,  inde 
pendent  of  a  greater  or  less  amount  of  intellectual  cultivation. 
That  she  must  feel  that  in  Mr.  De  Lisle  there  existed  these  bonds 
of  love  and  sympathy.  Few  men  were  formed  in  a  mould  so 
admirably  fitted  for  the  relations  of  married  life.  He  had  stood 
the  test  of  the  seductive  influences  of  society  ;  his  habits  were 
all  favorable  for  domestic  life  ;  his  home  would  be  the  centre  of 
his  happiness,  and  his  wife  the  sun  of  his  sphere.  "  From 
whom,"  she  asked  Grace,  "of  all  you  have  ever  known,  could 
you  hope  to  find  such  sympathy  and  support  ?  And  then,  too, 
my  dearest  Grace,"  continued  Mrs.  Smith,  folding  her  in  her  arms, 
"  you  may  hope  for  those  ties  of  affection  which  have  been  de 
nied  me.  God  knows  how  different  a  being  I  might  have  been, 
had  it  been  my  happiness  to  have  been  encircled  by  a  group  of 
happy  faces,  claiming  me  as  their  mother!" 

Here  Mrs.  Smith  ceased  to  speak.     Grace  felt  it  was  fitting 


DE  LISLE  AND  GRACE  WORTH.  421 

she  should  retire,  and  kissing  Mrs.  Smith,  she  assured  her  "she 
would  fully  reflect  on  all  she  had  said  to  her." 

This  conversation  had  its  weight  upon  Grace.  She  felt  the 
force  of  these  remarks  as  applicable  to  others ;  but  when  Mr.  De 
Lisle  was  to  be  considered,  and  his  beau-ideal  came  to  be  remem 
bered,  and  contrasted  with  herself,  she  was  assured  they  were 
inapplicable  in  her  case.  There  were  some  tender  emotions  of 
sympathy  for  Mr.  De  Lisle,  and  her  heart  pleaded  his  cause 
against  the  convictions  of  her  judgment,  so  severe  upon  herself, 
yet  so  just  for  him,  and  she  quieted  herself  by  saying,  "  Ah,  he 
doesn't  know  me  ;  but  he  shall  know  me  :  I  will  conceal  nothing, 
and  he  will  see  my  entire  unworthiness  and  incapacity  to  fill  up 
the  measure  of  his  requirements.  This  is  due  to  him — it  is  due 
to  myself,  and  he  will  respect  me,  though  he  will  cease  to  love 
me ;"  and  so  this  dear  girl  fell  asleep  with  the  sweet  conscious 
ness  of  perfect  rectitude. 

The  next  morning  the  guests  assembled  as  usual  on  the  veran 
dah  before  breakfast,  and  Mr.  De  Lisle  was  standing  apart  by  him 
self,  in  deep  thought.  The  moment  he  heard  Grace's  voice,  he 
looked  at  her  with  an  expression  of  sadness,  which  was  instantly 
dispelled  by  her  approaching  him  with  a  smile,  and  offering  her 
hand,  an  unusual  act  of  courtesy.  He  was  at  once  bright  and 
buoyant.  Grace  conversed  with  him  with  an  ease  and  freedom 
which  he  had  not  often  witnessed,  and  as  lovers  usually  look  upon 
the  bright  side  of  things,  it  inspired  him  with  hope,  and  he  was 
happy.  He  little  guessed  the  motives  which  were  actuating 
Grace,  though  they  were  at  once  discovered  by  Mrs.  Smith,  who 
could  not  but  smile  at  the  strange  method  Grace  was  taking  to 
cure  Mr.  De  Lisle  of  the  love-mania,  with  which  he  was  so  deeply 
afflicted.  And  fearing  that  her  methods  of  cure  might  aggravate 
the  symptoms,  she  found  an  opportunity  of  communicating  the 
exact  state  of  Grace's  heart,  and  counseled  him  to  leave  to  time 
to  work,  not  a  cure  of  his  love,  but  to  inspire  Grace  with  that 
confidence  in  herself,  which  would  result  in  the  accomplishment 
of  his  hopes.  Mr.  De  Lisle  was  grateful  to  be  counseled.  His 
love  certainly  was  in  no  danger  of  subsiding  under  the  regimen 
to  which  he  was  to  be  subjected,  and  he  only  feared  he  had  not 
the  self-control,  to  keep  in  strict  abeyance  every  manifestation  of 
his  earnest  and  devoted  affection  ;  but  as  Mrs.  Smith  was  impera 
tive,  he  promised  to  do  all  he  possibly  could,  expressing  his  own 
convictions  that  her  counsel  was  the  best  advice  he  could  receive. 

There  now  joined  them  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Gracie,  and  their  lovely 
daughter  Jane,  the  Fourierist,  and  her  "  Cousin  Richard,"  from  the 
other  side  of  the  Falls.  This  was  a  delightful  addition  to  our 
party,  and  Mrs.  Smith  was  in  the  highest  spirits. 


422  PETER  SCHLEMIHL. 

"  Now,"  she  said,  "  as  soon  as  Colonel  and  Mrs.  Worth  arrive, 
we  shall  have  our  party  complete,  and  then  we  will  go  and  see  how 
Adela  Tripp  is  getting  on  with  her  dashing  Irishman  !"  for  Mrs. 
Smith  had  a  warm  feeling  of  admiration  for  Adela,  in  spite  of  the 
bad  example  she  had  set  to  the  young  ladies  of  Babylon. 

On  the  arrival  of  her  father  and  mother,  Grace  lost  no  time  in 
communicating  to  her  mother  her  interview  with  Mr.  De  Lisle ; 
her  own  convictions  of  what  was  due  to  herself  and  due  to  Mr. 
De  Lisle,  and  the  course  of  conduct  she  had  determined  to  adopt. 
Mrs.  Worth  listened  with  the  tender  sympathy  of  a  mother;  she 
approved  of  all  she  had  done,  and  concluded  by  saying  to  her 
child— 

"  It  may  be,  Grace,  that  a  more  perfect  knowledge  of  yourself 
and  of  Mr.  De  Lisle  may  induce  you  to  surmount  these  now  in 
surmountable  objections.  This,  time  will  show;  in  the  mean 
while,  no  course  could  be  pursued  more  worthy  of  yourself,  or 
more  respectful  toward  Mr.  De  Lisle,  who  will  doubtless  commu 
nicate  with  me,  and  to  whom  I  shall  express  my  approval  of  your 
conduct;  and  I  am  sure  he  will  not  think  you  the  less  worthy  of 
his  affectionate  respect,  though  he  may  never  succeed  in  making 
a  union  with  you — an  idea  less  acceptable  than  it  seems  to  be  to 
you  at  this  moment." 

As  Mrs.  Worth  anticipated,  Mr.  De  Lisle  had  a  full  and  manly 
conversation  with  her.  He  declared  that  his  attachment  to  Grace 
had  increased  every  day  that  he  had  had  the  pleasure  of  enjoying 
in  her  society ;  and  he  spoke  of  the  hopes  he  entertained  that  her 
fears  of  accepting  him  would  eventually  be  obliterated. 

Mrs.  Worth  saw  deeper  into  the  heart  of  her  Grace  than  she 
could  see.  She  knew  these  mountains,  so  heaven  high,  would 
grow  less,  and  she  was  well  content  that  time  should  produce  its 
salutary  and  desirable  results.  She  felt,  too,  these  very  objections 
urged  by  Grace,  must  hereafter  act  as  a  shield  to  her  child's  hap 
piness,  and  that  a  man  of  Mr.  De  Lisle's  high  sense  of  honor, 
would  guard  against  the  tendencies  to  which  all  men  are  exposed, 
(and  especially  professional  men  of  a  city,)  of  leaving  their  wives 
to  find  their  happiness  in  pursuits  diverse  from  their  own. 

Mr.  De  Lisle  adopted  the  course  advised  at  first  by  Mrs.  Smith, 
and  approved  by  Mrs.  Worth.  He  waived  the  direct  avowal  of 
his  love;  but  this  having  been  made,  gave  him  privileges  of  which 
he  availed  himself  with  all  the  delicacy  and  refinement  which 
his  own  nature  prompted,  and  which  the  presence  of  Grace  na 
turally  inspired.  They  were  frequently  alone,  and  Grace  had  no 
longer  the  shrinking  timidity  which  had  been  before  self-imposed; 
and  this  daily  intercourse  had  its  desired  effect.  It  rendered 


423 

Grace  more  certain  of  herself,  more  familiar  with  the  thoughts 
and  sentiments  of  Mr.  De  Lisle,  which  he  lost  no  fitting  oppor 
tunity  frankly  to  disclose. 

As  for  Jane  Gracie  and  her  "  Cousin  Richard,"  they  were  at 
swords-points  as  much  as  ever.  Jane  never  failed  at  a  repartee 
when  she  had  no  good  argument.  It  was  her  sad  mistake  not  to 
see  the  vast  difference  which  exists  between  wit  and  repartee. 
The  one  is  allied  to  humor,  and  renders  more  bright  and  beauti 
ful  what  was  pure  gold  before ;  but  repartee,  while  it  adds  no 
thing  to  the  thought  which  suggests  it,  interrupts  the  conversa 
tion,  turns  aside  the  attention  to  strange  contrasts  which  a  bright 
mind  alone  can  discover,  and  keeps  a  circle  in  a  state  of  wonder 
not  unlike  that  of  the  sailor  at  the  juggler's  show,  who,  coming 
down  in  a  soft  place,  after  having  been  blown  up  by  an  accident, 
scratched  his  head  and  coolly  exclaimed,  "  I  wonder  what  this 
fellow  will  do  next !"  And  with  Jane  (as  in  the  experience  of 
most  of  our  young  friends),  when  her  repartees  were  not  bright, 
all  that  was  so  lost,  was  more  than  made  up  by  their  pungency — 
and  greatly  at  poor  Cousin  Richard's  expense,  who  never  made 
a  pun  in  his  life — did  not  always  comprehend  them  when  others 
saw  the  flash  and  felt  the  thrust,  though  he  was  most  frequently 
the  object  of  these  "passages"  of  skill; — being  somewhat  in  the 
condition  of  the  giant,  in  the  famous  story,  who,  when  cut  in 
halves  by  the  magical  sword  of  the  dwarf,  had  to  shake  himself, 
and  so  fall  in  pieces,  before  he  knew  the  extent  of  the  injury  he 
had  received.  And  yet  Cousin  Richard  was  a  man  of  fine  sense, 
varied  acquirements,  and  possessed,  too,  of  a  fund  of  grave  and 
most  pleasant  humor,  which  often  sparkled  into  wit.  But,  strange 
as  it  may  seem,  Jane  at  times  thought  Richard  a  dull  man. 

At  the  Falls  the  mornings  of  Richard  were  spent  in  rambles 
over  the  hills  with  his  hammer  and  bag,  in  search  of  specimens, 
leaving  ample  time  for  Jane  to  tell  Mrs.  Smith  all  her  sad  expe 
riences  with  him,  and  her  fears  that  they  never  would  be  happy 
together.  Indeed,  both  sought  to  make  her  the  repository  of  their 
separate  griefs  and  fears ;  but  in  despite  of  all  this,  to  Mrs.  Smith 
it  was  evident  that  these  two  dissimilar  beings  were  of  all  others 
in  the  world  best  fitted  for  each  other ;  and  her  advice  was  to 
cease  disputing  upon  topics  of  which  time  would  show  them  the 
folly ;  but  Jane  was  pugnacious,  and  Richard  conscientious.  So 
matters  stood  as  before. 

Jane,  as  is  usual  with  young  ladies,  had  more  grief  than  one 
bosom  could  hold  ;  and  though  Mrs.  Smith  was  very  patient  in 
listening  to  her,  yet  she  sometimes  was  very  severe  in  her  re 
proofs  ;  and  as  Grace  Worth  was  at  hand,  she  selected  her  as  the 


424  PETER  SCHLEMIHL. 

reservoir,  into  whose  bosom  all  her  excess  of  sorrows  could  be 
poured  without  stint.  There  was  one  good  effect  resulting  from 
these  conversations  with  Grace,  which  bore  upon  herself.  She 
plainly  saw  how  strongly  and  supremely  love  could  subsist  with 
great  diversities  of  opinion,  and,  too,  upon  subjects  just  as  mo 
mentous  in  the  mind  of  Grace,  as  they  could  appear  to  "  Cousin 
Richard ;"  and  she  could  not  but  observe  the  unity  of  thought 
and  feeling  subsisting  between  Mr.  De  Lisle  and  herself,  and  felt 
how  unspeakably  happy  Jane  would  be  if  she,  too,  was  but  pos 
sessed  of  a  like  harmony  of  sentiments  with  her  dear  "  Cousin 
Richard."  The  advice  which  Grace,  with  all  the  earnestness  of 
a  heart-felt  sympathy,  gave  Jane,  had  its  reflex  influence  upon 
herself.  The  very  arguments  she  urged  could  have  been  turned 
upon  herself,  and  often  as  she  thought  over  the  incidents  of  the 
day,  the  image  of  Mr.  De  Lisle,  and  her  own  arguments  to  Jane 
on  behalf  of  Cousin  Richard,  would  recur;  but  then  she  felt  they 
were  all  untrue,  when  applied  to  herself. 

"  Oh  !  no,  the  case  is  very  different;"  and  puzzling  herself  to 
define  the  precise  line  of  difference,  she  would  fall  asleep,  to 
dream  of  Mr.  De  Lisle  ;  always  dreams  full  of  sweet  visions  of 
future  happiness. 

The  party  now  proceeded  to  Quebec,  and  immediately  on 
their  arrival,  were  called  on  by  Colonel  Greenwood.  The  colonel 
kindly  inquired  into  their  plans,  and  proposed  various  objects 
worthy  of  their  notice.  Adela  soon  after  arrived,  accompanied  by 
her  husband,  and  was  delighted  to  see  them  all:  they  were  the 
first  visitors  from  Babylon  whom  she  was  willing  to  recognize  as 
her  friends,  and  she  determined  to  make  them  useful  and  ef 
fective. 

Mrs.  Smith  at  once  entered  into  her  views,  and  imparted  her 
own  wishes  to  her  party,  which  they  all  warmly  espoused.  The 
next  day,  under  the  escort  of  Colonel  Greenwood  and  Doyle,  they 
visited  Fort  Diamond.  In  the  evening,  they  all  attended  a  soiree 
at  the  Governor  General's,  to  which  they  were  invited,  and  were 
duly  presented  by  Colonel  Greenwood  to  the  Governor,  his  lady 
and  suit,  and  the  splendidly  dressed  array  of  officers  present, 
as  well  as  to  their  ladies.  The  week  ensuing  passed  away  in  a 
constant  succession  of  visits  made  and  received  ;  and  Colonel 
Greenwood  distinguished  Grace  by  his  courtesies.  She  became 
the  admiration  of  the  entire  corps  of  Coldstream-gentlemen,  and 
Adela  did  not  lose  the  opportunity  of  playing  the  part  of  her  very 
dear  friend.  The  impression  made  upon  the  officers  and  their 
ladies,  was  every  way  fortunate  for  Adela,  and  at  once  determined 
her  position ;  and  no  one  was  more  delighted  than  Doyle,  by  the 
attentions  paid  to  his  wife  by  Colonel  Worth  and  his  friends. 


COL.  WORTH'S  PARTY  IN  QUEBEC.  425 

Adela  gave  a  splendid  party,  which  the  lady  of  the  Governor 
General  and  all  his  suite  attended,  and  in  which  she  shone  with 
distinguished  "beauty  and  entire  success  :  so  that  the  most  preju 
diced  and  critical  could  not  but  admire  her  fine  manners  and  ad 
mirable  tact.  It  was  resplendent  with  gold  lace  and  epaulettes, 
and  Grace  was  reluctantly  compelled  to  attempt  the  arduous  task 
of  dancing  with  Colonel  Greenwood,  who  would  not  be  refused. 

Their  stay  was  prolonged  by  the  constant  variety  of  engage 
ments  with  which  they  found  themselves  invested  through  the 
friendship  of  Colonel  Greenwood  and  the  politeness  of  his 
numerous  friends,  and  terminated  by  a  dinner  given  them  by 
Colonel  Greenwood,  at  which  Grace  found  herself  the  conspicu 
ous  object  of  attention  and  attraction.  Indeed,  during  her  visit,  the 
cadets,  following  the  safe-lead  of  their  Colonel,  were  unbounded 
in  their  admiration,  and  some  half-dozen  felt  themselves  impelled 
to  go  down  the  Lakes  with  the  party  to  be  sure  of  their  safe  land 
ing  on  the  shores  of  their  own  country.  All  expressed  their 
earnest  hope  to  be  permitted  to  renew  their  acquaintance  on  their 
way  home,  a  consummation  most  devoutly  wished,  for  they  all 
affirmed  the  atmosphere  of  Hyde  Park  was  far  more  congenial 
than  the  snows  of  Canada.  On  parting,  they  all  were  assured 
of  a  warm  welcome  on  their  arrival  at  Babylon. 

Early  in  October,  Colonel  Worth  and  his  friends  found  them 
selves  snugly  seated  by  their  several  firesides.  By  no  one  were 
they  so  warmly  welcomed  as  by  Mrs.  Tripp,  to  whom  they 
brought  confidential  letters  from  Adela,  fully  advising  her  of  the 
admirable  results  of  their  timely  visit  upon  her  social  position. 
All  was  now  plain  before  her.  She  had  been  regarded  with 
suspicion,  but  this  had  been  dispersed  by  the  kindness  of  these 
her  best  friends.  Now  all  doubts  were  dispelled,  all  foes  dis 
armed,  and  she  was  perfectly  happy.  And  in  a  P.  S.,  as  is 
usual  with  ladies,  she  appended  what  Mrs.  Tripp  deemed  the 
most  important,  the  pleasing  intelligence  that  Doyle  had  repre 
sented  matters  to  her  more  gloomy  than  they  really  were,  for  he 
had  forgotten  to  tell  her  that  an  aunt  had  given  him  thirty  thou 
sand  pounds  sterling,  on  his  entrance  into  the  Coldstream  Guards  ; 
but  what  was  so  large  a  sum  to  her,  had  been  accounted  for  by 
him  in  so  small  a  word  as  his  "pay"  the  interest  being  the  sum 
he  had  been  always  accustomed  to  spend  in  the  corps. 

Mr.  De  Lisle's  attentions  to  Grace,  on  their  return  to  the  city, 
gradually  assumed  the  quiet  aspect  of  acknowledged  attentions : 
and  unconsciously  to  herself,  Grace  found  herself  divested  of  all 
her  insurmountable  obstacles  and  fearful  objections.  They  had 
been  imperceptibly  surmounted,  or  had  in  some  way  strangely 
disappeared.  As  mountains  whose  summits  mingle  with  the 


426  PETER  SCHLEMIHL. 

clouds,  are  ascended  step  by  step,  slowly  and  surely,  till  we  find 
ourselves  descending  again  into  the  valley,  without  toil  or  fatigue, 
so  with  the  "  Hills  of  Difficulty"  in  the  way  of  Grace's  pilgrim 
age.  All  these  were  as  by  magic  surmounted,  so  that,  when 
Mr.  De  Lisle  again  renewed  his  earnest  declarations  "  of  increas 
ing  love,  and  more  assured  confidence,  and  urged  her  to  confer 
upon  him  the  highest  and  best  gift  of  life,"  with  the  sanction  of  her 
parents  and  the  approval  of  her  own  heart,  she  sweetly  consented. 

Grace  could  not  but  impart  the  great  secret  of  her  life  to  Mrs. 
Smith,  begging  her  to  keep  it  a  secret,  as  she  wished  to  avoid  all 
those  sneers  and  jeers  with  which,  in  fashionable  circles,  as  in 
other  circles,  though  doubtless  with  more  refinement  of  phrase, 
but  with  the  same  feelings  of  petty  malice,  every  match  is  scru 
tinized  and  canvassed.  "  The  marriage  would  take  place  in 
January,  at  her  father's  seat  in  the  country,  and  Jane  was  to  be 
her  only  bridesmaid,  and  Cousin  Richard  to  be  Mr.  De  Lisle's 
groomsman,  so  that  it  would  be  all  kept  a  secret  by  their  own 
especial  friends.  To  you,  dear  Mrs.  Smith,"  said  Grace,  "  I  have 
imparted  it  first  of  all ;  for  to  you  I  am  most  deeply  indebted  for 
the  happiness  I  hope  and  believe  I  shall  possess." 

Mrs.  Smith  was  delighted  beyond  measure.  She  embraced 
Grace  again  and  again  :  "Dear  Grace,  I  knew  it  would  end  so — I 
ever  felt  it  was  one  of  the  marriages  which  Fielding's  Mrs.  Honor 
was  wont  to  say  '  are  made  in  heaven,  and  which  all  the  Justices 
of  the  Peace  on  earth  could  not  hinder.'" 

Grace  smiled,  and  was  happy.  The  decision  once  made,  her 
spirits  resumed  their  graceful  buoyancy,  and  the  serenity  and 
sweet  aspect  of  her  face  manifested  the  fullness  of  her  joy  and  the 
sunshine  of  her  soul. 

Mr.  De  Lisle  called  the  same  day  to  express  his  grateful  ac 
knowledgments  to  Mrs.  Smith,  and  to  tell  her  of  his  happiness ; 
and  though  accustomed  to  great  self-control,  he  now  indulged 
himself  in  giving  license  to  the  expression  of  his  joy,  and  the 
bright  anticipations  of  his  future  life.  "  I  have,"  he  said,  "lived 
a  life  of  too  great  seclusion — I  have  been  of  but  little  value  to  the 
society  by  which  I  have  been  surrounded.  I  have  had  no  motive 
to  develop  qualities  of  heart  which  I  know  I  possess — and  have 
worn  an  air  of  coldness  when  my  heart  has  longed  for  sympathy — 
but  now  I  have  a  motive  for  effort,  and  I  know  I  am  equal  to  all 
the  duties  which  love  and  friendship  demand  at  my  hands." 

Indeed,  it  was  evident  to  Mrs.  Smith,  that  Grace  had  the  surest 
grounds  of  hope  that,  as  a  wife,  she  would  be  most  eminently 
happy. 

Mrs.  Smith  now  became  possessed  of  "one  grand  idea" — it 
was  to  give  a  splendid  wedding  party  to  Grace,  and  to  introduce 


MRS.  SMITH'S  PLAN  OF  A  SECOND  PARTY.  427 

Grace  as  a  bride  to  the  astonished  Babylonians.  This  she  would 
have  imparted  to  her  husband  the  moment  the  idea  arose  in  her 
mind,  with  the  fullest  assurance  of  his  acquiescence,  but  he  was 
from  home,  and  so  for  three  days  she  had  nothing  to  do  but  ar 
range  all  the  details  of  the  important  subject,  in  readiness  for  his 
approval. 

On  his  return,  so  soon  as  the  welcome  was  over,  Mrs.  Smith, 
with  a  look  bright  with  yet  increasing  joyfulness,  cried  out,  clap 
ping  her  hands,  as  she  said  it — 

"  My  precious  husband!  I  have  such  delightful  news  to  tell 
you." 

"  And  what  is  it,  love  ?  You  are  always  getting  up  agreeable 
surprises,  but  this  seems  to  have  surprised  yourself.  I  must  not 
be  teased  now — so  you  must  tell  me  at  once." 

"  Oh !  you  will  be  so  happy.  Yes,  I  am  happy  !  //  is  an 
agreeable  surprise  truly,  and  one  for  which  we  are  indebted  to  our 
dearest  Grace  and  Mr.  De  Lisle.  They  are  to  be  married  !" 

"  I  am  indeed  delighted,"  said  Mr.  Smith  ;  "  Mr.  De  Lisle,  dear 
wife,  is  a  very  distinguished  man;  and  is  worthy  even  of  Grace 
Worth,  whom  I  certainly  love  next  to  yourself." 

"  You  need  not  say  next — I  won't  be  jealous  if  you  tell  me 
you  love  her  better  than  you  love  me.  I'm  sure  I  don't  see  how 
it  can  be  otherwise,"  said  Mrs.  Smith. 

"  It  is  even  so,  that  of  all  and  above  all  living  beings,  I  love  my 
wife  best.  It  is,  indeed,  a  most  remarkable  fact,  but,  my  dear,  I 
never  knew  how  much  I  loved  you,  till  I  was  all  but  dead  with 
dread,  lest  I  should  lose  you  '  last  winter.'  ' 

There  was  a  sort  of  chill  came  over  Mrs.  Smith  at  this  allusion, 
but  she  soon  recovered  her  look  of  animation. 

"  Now,  my  dear  husband,"  said  Mrs.  Smith,  as  they  seated 
themselves  on  a  small  sofa  before  the  grate,  "this  is  a  great  se 
cret,  and  you  must  not  breathe  it  to  any  one." 
Mr.  Smith  smiled  and  bowed  his  acquiescence. 
"And  now,"  continued  the  wife,  "I  have  to  let  you  into  ano 
ther  secret,  which  is  entirely  my  own,  and  which  you  must  also 
keep  a  profound  secret." 

The  husband  bowed  his  promises  to  fidelity. 
"  You  must  help  me  to  get  up  an  agreeable  surprise  for  the  oc 
casion,  something  worthy  of  our  love  and  their  friendship." 

"Certainly,  my  love,  with  all  my  heart!"  said  Mr.  Smith, 
thinking  it  was  some  splendid  gift. 

"I  thank  you!     I  knew  you  would  comply  with  my  wishes. 
Well,  then,  husband,  I  mean  to  give  Grace  a  splendid  wedding — " 
"Dress!"  said  Mr.  Smith,  helping  out  his  wife  with  a  smile 
and  a  word. 


428  PETER  SCHLEMIHL. 

"Dress!"  exclaimed  Mrs.  Smith.  "No,  indeed,  a  splendid 
wedding  party." 

Mr.  Smith  threw  his  arm  affectionately  round  his  wife,  and 
drawing  her  towards  him — 

"  Never  !  never.  Oh  !  you  have  survived  one  party,  and  I  will 
never  hazard  another.  Anything  but  a  party !  I  will  present 
Grace  with  a  service  of  gold  plate,  costing  fifty  thousand  dollars, 
if  it  will  please  you,  but  no  more  parties.  I  hate  them  here,  I 
hate  them  everywhere.  The  recollection  of  your  party  never 
comes  to  me  but  with  a  shudder  of  terror.  You  know,  my  love, 
I  cannot  consent.  I  have  said  it — I  cannot!" 

"  My  precious  husband  !"  said  Mrs.  Smith,  now  folding  her 
arms  around  his  neck,  and  looking  very  prettily  into  his  eyes, 
"how  can  you  be  so  cruel?" 

"Cruel?  I  am  not  cruel.  I  cannot,  I  will  not  risk  the  life  of 
one  whom  I  so  love." 

"  Dear  husband,  are  you  not  very,  very  foolish,  to  suppose  I 
shall  be  sick  if  I  should  give  another  party.  You  know,  dear, 
it  was  my  first  attempt,  and  was  attended  with  some  mishaps 
which  can  be  guarded  against,  and,  too,"  kissing  him  as  she  said 
it,  "  you  won't  scold  me  if  they  should  !" 

It  would  seem  hardly  possible  to  have  resisted  such  an  appeal ; 
but  Mr.  Smith,  with  all  his  love,  was  still  Mr.  John  Smith,  and 
seizing  upon  the  allusion,  he  said, 

"My  dear  Julia,  I  don't  see  any  better  methods  of  lighting  your 
house  now  than  then,  and  you  know  what  I  then  said ;  then,  my 
dear  wife,  in  a  tone  of  anger,  which  you  have  long  since  for 
given."  Here  his  wife  stopped  his  speech,  by  closing  his  mouth 
with  her  hand.  "  Well,  love,  let  me  finish  my  sentence; — but 
which  I  can  never  forget — I  now  remember  with  solicitude  and 
tenderest  love,  /  swore  you  should  never  give  another  party  in 
any  house  of  mine,  until  you  had  lamps  which  never  burned 
dim." 

"  No,  you  didn't  swear !"  said  the  lady,  "  and  if  you  did,  I  never 
married  an  old  Mede  or  Persian,  but  Mr.  John  Smith,  a  native  of 
the  great  republic  of  Babylonia,  who  change  their  Constitutional 
laws  just  as  often  as  it  suits  them;  and  then  construe  it  as  they 
please  to  understand  it.  Now,  I  don't  understand  that  I  have 
lived,  do  live,  or  will  live  under  any  such  outlandish,  old-fashioned, 
and  obsolete  laws.  I  am  a  fashionable  wife,  and  the  only  laws  I 
obey,  are  the  laws  of  '  good  society,'  and  they  imperatively  de 
mand  of  me  to  give  a  splendid  wedding  party  to  Grace  Worth, 
and,  dearest,  it  must  be  given." 

And,  as  when  places  besieged,  they  are  usually,  in  the  last 
resort,  carried  by  assault,  so  Mrs.  Smith  rose,  and  seating  her- 


MR.  SMITH  REJECTS  MRS.  SMITH'S  PLAN.  429 

self  on  her  husband's  knee,  put  her  arms  round  his  neck  and 
kissed  him,  till  the  stern  look  which  had  been  gathering  on  his 
brow  was  entirely  cleared  away.  "  There,  now,"  said  Mrs. 
Smith,  "  let  us  hear  no  more  of  these  Medes  and  Persians.  I  have 
put  them  all  to  flight." 

"But,  seriously,  my  love,  be  entreated  of  me  not  to  give  this 
party.  If  you  will  but  find  out  some  other  way  of  expressing 
your  affection  and  mine,  I  shall  be  so  pleased." 

Mrs.  Smith  was  quite  touched  by  this  appeal.  It  was  quite 
another  matter  than  inflexible  laws.  Sitting  for  an  instant  in 
silence,  she  looked  up,  and  said — 

"  No,  my  precious  husband!  parties  I  must  give  sometimes,  and 
I  will  commence  with  one  to  Grace.  I  must  give  parties  or  go 
out  of  the  world,  and  that  I  am  not  ready  to  do  yet." 

Mr.  Smith  then  begged  to  have  a  respite  until  the  next  morn 
ing,  and  so  the  matter  stood.  And  the  next  morning,  at  the  break 
fast  table,  Mrs.  Smith  recalled  his  attention  to  her  request :  she 
discovered,  before  she  said  a  word,  that  there  were  no  indications 
of  a  speedy  compliance.  Still  the  question  must  be  settled,  and 
the  sooner  the  better. 

"My  dear  wife,"  said  the  husband,  as  he  rose  from  the  table, 
having  listened  to  all  the  representations  of  the  imperative  obli 
gations  resting  upon  her  to  give  a  grand  party  during  the  winter, 
and  how  delighted  Grace  would  be,  and  how  certain  she  should 
be  of  success,  which  would  forever  obliterate  the  recollections  of 
the  misfortunes  of  the  first  party — "My  dear  wife,  I  remember, 
with  deep  mortification,  the  incidents  of  that  party,  and  its  all  but 
fatal  termination.  I  said  then,  and  I  say  now,  when  you  can 
light  up  your  parlors  with  lamps  that  never  burn  dim,  I  will 
consent,  but  never  till  then.  You  may  give  a  party  if  you  will, 
but  never  with  my  consent." 

And  so  saying,  they  arose  from  the  table,  both  of  them  grieved, 
but  yet  without  any  feelings  of  estrangement,  for  Mrs.  Smith  was 
as  affectionate  in  her  leave-taking  of  her  husband  as  ever.  He 
left  to  attend  to  his  business  engagements,  and  his  wife  to  think 
of  the  possibility  of  meeting  his  seemingly  insurmountable  requi 
sitions. 


430  PETER  SCHLEMIHL. 


CHAPTER  XIX. 

Mrs.  Smith's  second  "  Grand  Party" — Mrs.  Smith  can't  find  lamps  which  suit 
her  husband — Goes  to  Mrs.  Van  Dam's  party,  given  to  the  Dons  of  the 
springs — Sees  the  lamps  of  the  Gentleman  in  Black — Her  sad  mistake — 
Peter's  letter  to  Mrs.  Smith — The  feelings  of  a  lady  on  hearing  the  first 
carriage  roll  up — The  party  opens — The  cadets  of  the  Coldstream  Guards 
arrive — Entry  of  the  Worths — The  supper — Grace  makes  two  converts — 
Character  of  the  "  Impracticables" — The  last  point  of  high  finish  in  a  fash 
ionable  lady — Colonel  Worth  and  party  leave — The  guests  begin  to  disperse 
— Dancing  saloon  towards  morning— Katrine  Van  Tromp  elopes  with  Don 
Hernandez  Mendez  Pinto — Mr.  and  Mrs.  Smith,  with  Maria,  go  to  their 
chamber — Side  scenes  as  described  by  Maria — Mrs.  Smith  and  Maria  go 
down  to  the  saloon,  leaving  Mr.  Smith  asleep — Supper  of  the  servants — 
"Uncle  Tim's"  speech  in  reply  to  a  toast  complimentary  to  "his  young 
mistress" — Tom  Jones'  toast — Uproar  thereon — Uncle  Tim  toasts  Mrs. 
Smith,  who  comes  from  behind  a  screen,  and  replies  in  person — On  her 
way  to  her  room,  meets  Peter  in  the  saloon — Peter's  story — His  explana 
tion — State  of  Mrs.  Smith's  "  reputation  robes'" — Mrs.  Smith  begs  him  to 
stay  in  Babylon — As  Peter  is  about  saying  his  last  words,  he  hears  the  step 
of  the  Gentleman  in  Black — Mrs.  Smith  rushes  up  to  her  chamber — Scene 
behind  the  curtains. 

MRS.  SMITH  now  commenced  a  series  of  experiments  which 
resulted  in  unvarying  failures.  The  Sinumbra,  the  Dome  Jlr- 
gand,  GirarcTs,  Parker's,  Thilorier's  hydrostatic  lamps,  and 
every  variety  she  could  find  in  the  shops  of  Babylon,  were  all 
tried,  but  none  stood  the  test  enforced  by  her  husband. 

Poor  Mrs.  Smith  was  in  despair !  She  proposed  the  introduction 
of  gas,  but  her  husband  objected  to  defacing  the  walls,  and  espe 
cially  the  beautifully  painted  and  gilded  ceilings,  from  burning  the 
gas,  and  the  hazard  of  leaking;  and  Mrs.  Smith,  herself,  had  in 
surmountable  objections  to  lighting  up  her  friends  by  the  ghastly 
glare  of  gas.  She  thought  it  made  rooms  look  too  much  like  apo 
thecaries'  shops,  and  so  week  after  week  passed  away,  and  she 
often  wished  there  was  such  a  being  as  the  Gentleman  in  Black, 
and  that  he  could  be  induced  to  have  supplied  her  with  those 
beautiful  lamps  she  had  seen  in  the  mirror.  And  though  he  be 
came  more  and  more  a  doubtful  character  with  Mrs.  Smith,  she 
never  doubted  that  such  lamps  as  his  really  existed  in  some  part 
of  the  world. 


PARTY  AT  MRS.  VAN  DAM'S.  431 

Who  can  describe  the  despair  of  a  lady  known  to  possess  a 
fine  suite  of  rooms  and  rich  furniture,  with  an  assortment  of 
debts  of  society  weighing  upon  her,  and  reduced  to  absolute  in 
solvency  by  the  invincible  determination  of  her  husband?  She 
remonstrated  in  vain.  She  showed  him  that  the  course  adopted 
by  him  was  the  very  way  to  keep  alive  their  dreadful  failure  in 
the  memory  of  her  guests,  (and  which  she  did  not  now  fail  to 
exaggerate,)  all  which,  she  assured  Mr.  Smith,  would  be  forgiven 
and  forgotten  by  the  grand  party  she  could  give,  and  would  give. 

In  her  despair,  she  now  really  wished  the  Gentleman  in  Black 
would  reappear — his  lamps  would  be  cheap  at  any  price.  And 
as  to  what  he  had  asked  in  exchange,  "what  was  it?  a  trifle, 
perhaps  a  lock  of  hair — something,  certainly,  which  she  did  not 
care  for."  And  so  she  mused  till  her  vision  assumed  the  shape 
of  reality,  and  she  regretted  the  puncture  of  a  lancet  had  for 
ever  destroyed  the  only  hope  she  had  of  giving  another  party — 
but  so  it  was.  And  though  she  often  mused  in  this  way  in  the 
very  seat  she  had  before  occupied,  no  obliging  Gentleman  in 
Black  ever  came,  until,  her  mind  recovering  its  healthful  tone, 
she  saw  the  folly  of  these  imaginings,  and  was  trying  to  disci 
pline  her  mind  to  relinquish  what  was,  at  the  time,  an  absorbing 
idea — one  that  had  so  much  to  recommend  it,  and  which  it  was 
with  the  greatest  pain  she  thought  of  relinquishing. 

In  such  a  state  of  mind,  Mrs.  Smith  received  an  invitation  to 
a  grand  party  to  be  given  by  Mrs.  Van  Dani  to  the  Mexican  mil 
lionaire  and  his  suite,  who  were  daily  expected  in  Babylon. 
This  was  the  opening  party  of  the  season,  and  now  all  her  griefs 
were  renewed.  She  told  her  husband,  "as  she  could  give  no  par 
ties,  she  would  go  to  none,"  and  had  written  her  note  of  declina 
tion,  when  Grace  came  in,  and  told  Mrs.  Smith  her  mother  would 
be  unable  to  attend  Mrs.  Van  Dam's  party,  as  she  was  compelled 
to  go  with  the  colonel  out  of  town,  and  that  she  had  come  to  ask 
her  to  be  her  chaperon  on  that  evening.  Mrs.  Smith  told  her  she 
had  just  written  a  note  declining  the  invitation.  Grace  begged 
her  not  to  send  it,  for,  unless  she  would  consent  to  go,  she  must 
stay  at  home,  and  she  could  not  subject  herself  to  the  annoyances 
she  might  be  compelled  to  meet,  if  she  went  alone  with  Mr.  De 
Lisle.  '  As  the  result  of  her  entreaties,  joined  to  those  of  her 
husband,  the  note  was  destroyed,  greatly  to  the  comfort  of  both, 
and,  it  must  be  confessed,  Mrs.  Smith  was  glad  of  so  good  an 
apology  to  herself  for  her  acceptance. 

The  night  on  which  the  party  "  came  off"  was  intensely  cold, 
and  made  a  pleasant  contrast  to  the  summer  warmth  of  the  hall 
they  entered.  To  the  astonishment  of  Mrs.  Smith,  the  splendid 
parlors  of  the  Van  Dams  were  dazzling  with  light,  descending 


432  PETER  SCHLEMIHL. 

from  the  very  lamps  shown  by  the  Gentleman  in  Black.  She 
gazed  with  wonder.  The  rooms  were  already  thronged  with  com 
pany  ;  and  the  "  Ogre-eye"  of  the  Mexican,  with  his  tortoise- 
shell  eyeglass,  met  her  at  every  turn,  looking  her  through  and 
through,  and  she  thought  his  smile  never  seemed  more  sinister 
and  malicious.  The  Misses  Van  Dams  were  assiduously  attended 
by  their  young  Dons,  and  Katrine  Van  Tromp  appeared,  in  all 
the  magnificence  of  her  fine  form,  with  Don  Hernandez  Mendez 
Pinto  at  her  elbow. 

Everything  was  magnificent,  and  the  party  was  a  bright  and 
joyous  one.  Mrs.  Smith  shielded  Grace  from  the  many  sly  allu 
sions  which  embarrassed  her  fair  friend,  and  as  soon  as  supper 
was  announced,  Grace,  pleading  the  indisposition  of  "  Uncle  Tim," 
a  favorite  servant  of  her  father's,  and  an  especial  pet  of  her  own, 
retired,  under  the  escort  of  Mr.  De  Lisle,  leaving  Mrs.  Smith  to 
find  her  way  home  under  the  care  of  some  friend,  as  Mr.  Smith 
was  away  from  home. 

Mrs.  Smith  enjoyed  the  party,  and  was  everywhere  welcomed 
with  kindness.  General  Montmorris  was  especially  attentive  to 
her,  and  the  hours  flew  till  the  time  of  dispersing  came.  As  the 
rooms  began  to  thin  off,  she  looked  around  for  the  Gentleman  in 
Black,  but  no  Gentleman  in  Black  made  his  appearance;  so  she 
determined  to  wait  till  all  were  gone.  She  looked  at  her  watch ; 
it  was  three  o'clock,  and  there  the  lamps  were,  burning  and  blaz 
ing  in  undiminished  splendor,  as  brightly  as  if  just  lighted. 

The  Van  Dams  were  evidently  annoyed  at  her  stay,  and  sup 
posed  she  was  waiting  for  her  husband.  The  General  yawned, 
and  fell  fast  asleep.  Mrs.  Van  Dam  was  evidently  worn  out ; 
but  Mrs.  Smith  put  forth  all  her  powers,  and  talked  over  every 
topic  likely  to  interest  her  and  the  young  ladies — of  their  party, 
the  ladies  there,  the  gentlemen,  their  dresses,  and  especially  of 
the  young  Dons,  whom  Mrs.  Smith,  for  the  first  time,  now  greatly 
admired.  She  succeeded  to  her  satisfaction  with  the  young  la 
dies,  but  Mrs.  Van  Dam  was  all  the  while  half-asleep,  when  the 
door  opened,  and  the  servant  came  in,  and  said,  in  a  "  stage 
aside"  :— 

"  John  says,  Mrs.  Smith,  that  he's  fearful  the  horses  will  die 
of  cold.  He's  been  here  these  two  hours." 

Mrs.  Smith  was  compelled  to  leave,  and  Mrs.  Van  Dam  ac 
companied  her  to  the  room  where  her  shawls  and  cloaks  were 
placed,  almost  dead  with  sleep.  When  Mrs.  Smith  was  all  shawl 
ed,  and  cloaked,  and  bonneted,  and  about  to  go,  she  felt  herself 
impelled  to  say  to  Mrs.  Van  Dam  : — 

"  Do  tell  me,  when  and  where  you  last  met  the  Gentleman  in 
Black?" 


MRS.  SMITH'S  MISTAKE.  433 

Mrs.  Van  Dam  said,  with  some  surprise — "  Gentleman  in 
Black!  who  is  he?  what  do  you  mean?"  waking  up  to  what 
seemed  to  her  a  sly  insinuation  pointing  to  Rev.  Doctor  Verdant 
Green. 

"  My  dear  Mrs.  Van  Dam,  I  refer  to  the  Gentleman  in  Black 
who  supplied  you  with  your  unspeakably  splendid  lamps.  He 
offered  to  supply  me,  but  I  fear  I  have,  in  some  way,  mortally 
offended  him." 

Mrs.  Van  Dam  now  recalled  all  she  had  heard  from  Mrs.  Tripp. 
"  Gracious  heavens  !"  she  exclaimed,  now  wide  awake,  "  and  do 
you  think  I  deal  with  the  devil?  or  that  I  would  sell  my  soul  for 
the  sake  of  having  my  rooms  well  lighted  ?  No,  madam,  you 
may  save  your  soul,  and  have  your  rooms  lighted  to  your  heart's 
content,  by  buying  lamps  where  I  bought  mine — of  Mr.  &ugu$* 
tus  Diacon,  a  gentleman  in  black,  it  may  be,  but  not  the  black 
gentleman  you  speak  of." 

Poor  Mrs.  Smith  was  speechless  !  She  hurried  to  her  carriage. 
She  now  saw  the  dreadful  delusion  she  had  been  under.  She 
would  gladly  have  relinquished  the  long  sought-for  lamps,  and 
saw,  at  a  glance,  the  ridicule  to  which  she  should  be  exposed. 
And  she  thought,  with  bitterness  of  spirit,  of  the  breach  of  confi 
dence  on  the  part  of  Grace  or  of  Mr.  De  Lisle,  the  only  persons 
to  whom  she  had  ever  related  her  vision  of  the  Gentleman  in 
Black — but  now  there  was  no  escape. 

The  next  day,  Grace  called  at  an  early  hour,  and  when  Mrs. 
Smith  looked  into  her  fair  face,  she  felt  certain  of  her  innocence, 
but  she  could  not  refrain  from  telling  her  how  deeply  she  had 
been  pained  and  mortified  by  what  had  been  said  to  her  by  Mrs. 
Van  Dam,  and  at  Mr.  De  Lisle's  breach  of  confidence.  Grace 
flushed  at  the  charge  upon  Mr.  De  Lisle,  and  replied : — 

"  I  will  stake  my  life  upon  Mr.  De  Lisle's  trustfulness  ;  and  I 
am  certain  Mrs.  Van  Dam  has  obtained  all  this  from  some  one 
else." 

"  How  could  she,  dearest  Grace  ?  I  never  spoke  of  it  but  to 
you  and  Mr.  De  Lisle,  and  I  need  no  assurances  from  you,  to 
know  you  are  innocent." 

"  I  am,  dear  Mrs.  Smith,  and  so  is  Mr.  De  Lisle.  And  have 
you  never  been  told,  that,  on  being  restored  from  your  swoon, 
you  talked  for  days  and  days,  incessantly,  about  the  Gentleman 
in  Black,  and  lamps  that  never  burned  dim,  and  poor  Peter 
Schlemihl?  And  this  was  well  known  to  all  that  called." 

"  Ah  !   was  it  so?     Dear  Grace,  I  beg  Mr.  De  Lisle's  pardon. 
It's    all    explained.       Yes,  I    must  endure    the    jests  my  dear 
friends  will  inflict.     But  these  lamps?     Where  have  they  been, 
that  I  never  heard  of  them  ?" 
28 


434  PETER  SCHLEMIHL. 

"  I  believe,"  said  Grace,  "  the  depot  has  recently  been  esta 
blished  in  this  city,  and  they  are  French  lamps." 

**  Nothing  can  save  me,  dear  Grace,"  replied  Mrs.  Smith,  with 
a  sad  smile  ;  **  the  lamps  I  must  have" 

They  were  purchased,  and  the  inflexible  demand  of  Mr.  Smith 
was  fully  met.  His  only  hope  of  saving  his  wife  from  the  ex 
citement  of  a  grand  party  (her  "  evenings  at  home"  had  been 
long  since  resumed),  was  at  an  end,  and  he  submitted  to  the  in 
fliction  with  the  best  possible  grace.  Mrs.  Smith  was  now 
amply  repaid  for  her  anxieties,  by  the  delightful  earnestness 
manifested  by  her  husband,  to  fulfil  her  every  wish.  Still  there 
were  pangs  of  wretchedness  when  she  thought  of  Mrs.  Van  Dam, 
and  the  Gentleman  in  Black. 

She,  however,  busied  herself  in  all  the  details  of  her  party. 
Her  visiting  list  had  considerably  increased.  It  was  no  longer  a 
question  with  her  whom  she  should  invite,  but  whom  she  should 
drop,  for,  though  her  circle  had  been  enlarged,  her  rooms  had  not. 
Few  ladies  but  have  made  this  discovery  before,  and  who  do 
not  know  the  perplexities  which  are  attendant  upon  selections  to 
be  made  under  like  circumstances. 

Mr.  Smith  attended  to  everything  which  could  add  to  the 
beauty  and  splendor  of  her  saloons ;  he  engaged  the  best  Res 
taurateur  to  provide  and  serve  the  supper.  All  things  were 
ready,  and  the  day  of  the  party  had  arrived.  It  was  a  beautiful 
clear  day,  and  there  were  so  many  acceptances,  and  so  few 
declined,  as  to  assure  Mrs.  Smith  that  there  would  be  no  failure 
from  want  of  guests.  The  reputation  of  Mrs.  Smith's  evenings, 
which  were  carefully  selected  and  restricted,  had  given  her  quite 
an  enviable  notoriety,  and  everybody  had  an  interest  in  seeing 
this  attractive  lady. 

Grace  had  been  married  to  Mr.  De  Lisle  two  days  before,  as 
had  been  proposed,  and  no  one  knew  of  it,  and  the  marriage  was 
to  be  announced  at  the  party.  This  accorded  with  Mrs.  Smith's 
wishes,  and  was  pleasing  to  Grace,  who  felt  no  better  way  could 
be  devised  to  go  through  the  ordeal  of  being  shown  up  as  a  bride. 

While  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Smith  were  breakfasting,  Tom  Jones, 
their  footman,  brought  in  as  usual  the  morning  mail,  and  Mr.  Smith 
threw  to  Mrs.  Smith  some  twenty  notes  or  more,  addressed  to 
his  wife.  She  opened  one  after  another,  carelessly,  when  she 
threw  one  to  her  husband. 

"  See  there !  the  Van  Dams,  notwithstanding  all  my  refusals, 
insist  on  bringing  those  odious  Mexicans  here." 

"  Well,  dearest,  let  them  come  ;  they  are  not  so  large  as  Katrine 
Van  Tromp,  all  put  together." 

Mrs.  Smith  opened  another  note.    "  Was  there  ever  any  one  so 


PETER'S  WARNING  TO  MRS.  SMITH.  435 

foolishly  anxious  about  his  wife's  health,  as  Frank  Stanly !"  ex 
claimed  Mrs.  Smith,  holding  up  a  note. 

"Read  it,  love,"  said  Mr.  Smith,  as  he  helped  himself  to 
another  platter  of  buckwheat  cakes,  which  the  servant  had  brought 
piping  hot,  "  done  brown  on  both  sides,"  to  the  table. 

Mrs.  Smith  read  the  note,  as  follows : — 

"  La  Grange  Square,  Monday  evening. 

"  My  very  dear  MRS.  SMITH  : — I  read  your  kind  note  to  Frank, 
refusing  my  declinature,  and  begged  him  to  allow  me  the  gratifica 
tion  of  being  present  at  your  party.  I  know  it  will  be  a  delight 
ful  one,  and  you  tell  me,  there  is  to  be  an  *  agreeable  surprise,' 
which  I  must  not  miss.  Without  any  such  intimation,  I  do  truly 
long  to  be  with  you  ;  but  my  dear  husband  says  I  have  not  been 
well  of  late,  *  that  my  health  forbids  it;'  and  so,  dearest  Mrs. 
Smith,  you  must  forgive  me  if  I  decline — and  I  regret  to  say,  I 
can't  persuade  Frank  to  go  without  me  :  but  so  it  is,  I  must  learn 
from  some  of  our  *  evening  circle,'  all  the  particulars.  My  best 
wishes  attend  you,  and  I  should  be  most  grateful  to  share  in  all 
the  pleasures,  not  forgetting  the  '  agreeable  surprise,'  which  you 
know  so  well  how  to  prepare  for  your  friends. 

"  Always  most  affectionately  yours, 

*'  JANET  STRAHAN  STANLY." 

"  When  he's  been  married  a  dozen  years,"  said  Mrs.  Smith, 
as  she  pettishly  threw  down  the  note,  and  opened  another,  "  he 
will  be  more  considerate  of  his  wife's  wishes,  and  the  claims  of 
those  who  love  her  as  well  as  himself." 

"  I  am  sure,  my  love,"  said  Mr.  Smith,  "  I  would,  in  his  case, 
act  as  he  does." 

The  remark  was  lost  on  Mrs.  Smith,  who  made  an  exclama 
tion,  as  she  read  the  note  just  opened,  with  all  eagerness  and 
riveted  attention ;  she  looked  up  in  amazement. 

"What  is  the  matter,  love  ?"  asked  Mr.  Smith,  with  an  earnest 
ness  of  concern. 

"  Read  that  note,  husband  !"  handing  him  the  note.  He  read 
it  aloud,  as  follows  : — 

"  My  dear  MRS.  SMITH  : — Permit  one  of  the  humblest  of  your 
friends  to  warn  you  of  a  conspiracy  to  make  your  party  to-night 
a  signal  failure.  And  I  pray  you,  obtain  the  services  of  a  new 
set  of  waiters  for  your  supper.  Those  whom  you  have  hired 
are  all  foreigners,  and  are  enlisted  to  defeat  your  hopes,  and  to 
disgrace  you,  if  possible,  by  their  well-contrived  schemes.  Be 
sure  of  this,  and  believe  me  to  be  devotedly  and  truly  your  friend, 

"  PETER  SCHLEMIHL." 


436  PETER  SCHLEMIHL. 

"  This,  my  dearest,"  said  Mr.  Smith,  as  he  laid  down  the  note, 
"  is  a  poor  joke,  played  off  by  some  good-natured  friend,  who  has 
been  omitted  in  your  list  of  invitations." 

"  Oh  no  !  I  fear  there  is  some  mischief  planned,  and  I  shall  be 
miserable  till  this  party  is  over." 

"  My  dear  love,"  replied  Mr.  Smith,  "  this  note  asks  you  to 
do  what  is  very  readily  attained — and  if  it  will  give  you  any  re 
lief,  I  will  obtain  a  dozen  first  rate  waiters  from  the  Babylonian 
hotel,  upon  whose  ability  and  integrity  I  have  all  confidence,  and 
indeed,  as  I  know  them,  I  shall  prefer  to  do  so." 

"  Thank  you,  dear  husband  !  do  so,  and  I  shall  be  restored  to 
my  ease  of  mind." 

"  Give  yourself  no  concern  about  this  note.  The  request,  if 
made  by  a  friend,  will  be  met;  if  it  comes  from  some  mischief 
maker,  the  object  is  so  contemptible  as  to  be  of  no  manner  of 
consequence."  So  saying,  Mr.  Smith  took  his  wonted  kiss,  and 
left  the  house. 

The  hour  came.  Mrs.  Smith  was  splendidly  attired.  There 
was,  in  spite  of  herself,  a  dread  of  some  unforeseen  mishap,  which 
might  ruin  her  second  grand  party.  The  new  waiters  made  their 
appearance,  and  every  thing  which  could  be  devised  for  the  suc 
cess  of  the  party,  had  been  attended  to. 

Mrs.  Smith's  heart  beat  rapidly,  as  she  heard  the  wheels  of 
the  first  carriage,  and  of  the  letting  down  of  the  steps,  at  her  door. 
The  throngs  which  now  came  in,  in  rapid  succession,  fully  occu 
pied  her  thoughts.  She  received  her  guests  with  all  grace  and 
serenity  of  manner.  The  Van  Dams  brought  their  Dons,  and 
Mrs.  Van  Dam  led  up  the  senior  Jago,  whose  bows  were  more 
than  usually  profound.  The  Van  Tromps  were  attended  by  Don 
Hernandez  Mendez  Pinto,  who  devoted  himself,  as  usual,  to 
Katrine,  and  indeed,  his  ignorance  of  all  languages  but  Spanish, 
seemed  to  render  this  necessary. 

But  if  there  were  some  guests,  who  were  as  unexpected  as 
they  were  unwelcome,  Mrs.  Smith  was  repaid  by  the  agreeable 
surprise  of  seeing  Lieutenant  De  Roos,  and  eight  other  young 
officers  of  the  Coldstream  Guards,  enter.  She  had  playfully  sent 
cards  to  these  cadets  of  nobility,  as  soon  as  she  had  decided  on 
the  evening,  and  they  told  her,  Colonel  Greenwood  sent  them  as 
his  representatives,  and  to  supply  his  place.  This  was  certainly 
a  very  distinguished  mark  of  their  friendship,  as  well  as  of  Colo 
nel  Greenwood's  politeness ;  and  Mrs.  Smith  took  great  pleasure 
in  presenting  them  to  the  most  beautiful  and  attractive  of  her 
young  friends.  They  all  inquired  eagerly  for  Miss  Grace  Worth, 
and  were  told  playfully,  she  would  soon  be  among  them,  as  de 
lighted  to  see  them  as  they  could  possibly  be  to  see  her.  In  the 


ARRIVAL  OF  THE  WORTH  PARTY.  437 

meanwhile,  they  must  be  content  with  the  lovely  girls  she  should 
present  them  to. 

Near  ten  o'clock,  Colonel  Worth  and  Mrs.  Worth,  Mr.  and 
Mrs.  De  Lisle,  Jane  and  cousin  Richard,  all  entered  the  saloon 
together.  Grace  shone  a  divinity  !  and  was  presented  as  "  Mrs. 
De  Lisle."  De  Lisle  was  calm  and  happy,  and  received  the  con 
gratulations  offered  him,  with  all  frankness,  and  Grace  returned 
the  thousand  kisses  she  received  with  grateful  expressions  of  her 
thanks  for  the  kind  wishes  all  expressed  for  her.  The  surprise 
was  complete,  and  shed  its  sunshine  over  the  party,  and  Mrs. 
Smith  forgot  it  was  possible  for  lamps  ever  to  burn  dim. 

When  the  cadets  of  the  Coldstream  Guards  found  Grace  was 
a  bride,  there  seemed  a  little  hesitancy  and  disappointment,  at 
first,  but  this  was  dispelled  by  the  warmth  of  the  reception  each 
and  all  received  from  her  and  Mrs.  Worth.  They  forgot  their 
disappointment  in  the  gayety  around  them,  and  consoled  them 
selves  by  their  undivided  attentions  to  the  sweet  girls  who  had 
kindly  assumed  the  task  of  making  this  evening  bright  and  joyous, 
by  their  smiles  and  beauty.  And,  during  the  evening,  they  were 
objects  of  special  admiration,  when  it  was  known  that  some  were 
real  "live  lords,"  and  the  least  distinguished  had  the  prefix  of 
an  honorable  to  their  names. 

As  for  Mrs.  Tripp,  she  was  altogether  beside  herself,  for  the 
pleasure  of  meeting  these  associates  of  Adela.  It  was  a  triumph 
to  her  to  be  presented  as  the  mother  of  Mrs.  Doyle — to  receive 
the  kind  compliments  paid  by  them  to  Adela,  who,  they  said, 
was  the  favorite  of  all  in  garrison.  She  did  not  forget  to  pre 
sent  Josephine,  who,  with  an  adroitness  worthy  of  her  parentage, 
managed  to  attach  a  slip  of  a  lord  to  herself,  for  the  entire  even 
ing,  and  made  the  most  of  him,  to  the  great  chagrin  of  many 
young  ladies,  then  and  there  present.  Nor  could  the  amiable 
Mrs.  Tripp,  as  she  walked  beside  her  daughter  Josephine,  who 
was  parading  her  lord,  deny  herself  the  pleasure  of  a  look  of 
triumph  at  the  Van  Dams  and  Katrine  Van  Tromp,  whose  pigmy 
Dons  never  looked  so  small  in  their  eyes  as  they  did  at  that  mo 
ment. 

At  midnight,  the  doors  of  the  supper  room  were  thrown  open. 
The  effect  was  as  splendid  as  light,  cut  glass  and  plate  could 
make  it.  Never  was  there  so  gay  a  party.  Never  were  wines 
drank  with  greater  gout.  The  young  ladies,  smiling  in  beauty, 
(the  realizations  of  poetic  dreams  of  light  and  air !)  were  yet 
found  equal  to  the  task  of  demolishing  most  of  the  miracles  of 
pastry  and  confectionery,  within  the  reach  of  their  devoted  ad 
mirers — and  some  of  them  showed  they  could  stand  the  musket 
ry  of  the  champagne  corks,  with  a  steadiness  worthy  of  veterans. 


438  PETER  SCHLEMIHL. 

But  they  soon  fled  the  field,  leaving  to  the  men  of  forty,  and 
such  like  sensible  persons,  to  make  a  more  perfect  analysis  of 
the  various  admirable  creations  of  art  and  science,  submitted  for 
their  dissection  and  deglutition,  a  work  of  much  care  and  research. 
Montmorris,  "  Old  Knick,"  and  other  beaux  d>  esprit  of  Babylon, 
actually  outshone  the  lustres,  by  the  constant  coruscations  of 
their  wit.  Old  Godolphin  and  Alderman  Peterson  swore  they 
were  nuisances  that  should  be  abated,  for  they  forgot  to  taste 
what  they  were  eating,  for  laughing  at  the  drollery  and  exquisite 
jests.  The  toasts  drank  were  as  bright  and  sparkling  as  the  wine 
in  the  beakers,  and  so  rapid  in  succession,  as  to  admit  of  no  very 
accurate  calculation  as  to  the  number  given. 

While  such  were  the  sensible  and  satisfactory  enjoyments  in 
the  dining-hall,  the  juveniles  were  happy  in  the  ecstacy  of  waltz 
ing,  in  the  dancing  saloon,  to  the  music  of  the  best  band  in  Ba 
bylon. 

Mrs.  Smith  was  conscious,  at  times,  of  the  "  evil  eye"  of  that 
hateful  Mexican,  as  he  frequently  crossed  her  path,  and  whose 
cold  sinister  smile  for  an  instant  gave  her  a  feeling  of  disquiet, 
which,  however,  the  necessity  of  making  replies  to  the  kind  re 
marks  of  some  friend,  instantly  dispelled.  Mrs.  Smith  was  every 
where  without  effort;  going  from  group  to  group,  and  from  room 
to  room,  she  moved  with  grace,  and  a  happy  serenity  of  man 
ner,  which  indicated  the  most  perfect  self-possession,  and  enabled 
her  to  see  that  all  her  guests  were  happily  occupied. 

The  eyes  of  no  one  rested  on  Mrs.  Smith  with  a  more  fond 
and  approving  smile  than  those  of  her  husband.  He  was  assi 
duous  in  promoting  the  pleasure  of  their  friends,  if  not  so  ob 
viously  as  his  wife,  at  least  always  effectively.  As  they  were  for 
an  instant  standing  together  in  the  saloon,  after  supper,  Grace  came 
toward  them,  leading  Jane  and  cousin  Richard.  "Dear  Mrs. 
Smith,  I  have  made  a  convert !"  said  Grace  in  a  gay  tone. 
"  Jane  says  she  is  ready  to  adventure  upon  the  ocean  of  life 
under  the  conduct  of  cousin  Richard,  if  he  will  promise  to  take 
Mr.  De  Lisle  for  his  guiding  star." 

"  And  I,"  said  cousin  Richard,  "  have  agreed  to  take  command, 
if  Jane  will  promise  to  follow  the  example  of  our  dear  Mrs.  De 
Lisle." 

Mr.  and  Mrs.  Smith  both  presented  them  their  congratulations, 
and  asked  how  long  it  had  been  since  the  happy  thought  occurred 
to  them  to  adopt  the  rule  of  "  safe  precedents." 

"  Within  these  ten  minutes  !"  said  Jane.  *'  And  so  soon  as  it 
occurred  to  me,  I  told  the  thought  to  Richard,  and  we  both  at 
once  agreed — for  the  first  time,"  said  the  girl,  laughing. 

"  And  now  it  seems   surprising  to  me,"  said  cousin  Richard, 


JANE  GRACIE  AGREES  TO  MARRY  "COUSIN  RICHARD."         439 

"  that  it  never  occurred  to  either  of  us  before.  We  have  agreed 
never  to  dispute;  and  Jane  says  she  will  never  perpetrate  ano 
ther  repartee  at  my  expense.  And  if  we  should  ever  get  at 
swords'  points,  we  are  at  once  to  ask,  how  would  Grace  act? 
and  what  would  Mr.  De  Lisle  say? — and  so  settle  the  matter. 
Don't  you  think  we  shall  succeed  ?" 

"  My  dear  love,"  said  Mr.  Smith,  smiling  fondly  as  he  ad 
dressed  his  wife,  "  that  would  not  be  a  bad  plan  for  us  to  adopt." 

"  Now,  husband  !  Grace,  my  dear,  you  don't  believe  we  ever 
quarrel  and  dispute,  and  say  sharp  things  to  each  other,  as  these 
two  children  have  been  wont  to  do  ?" 

And  while  this  little  group  of  happy  souls  were  so  occupied, 
our  good  friend  Mr.  Winterbottom,  and  Mr.  De  Lisle,  came  up. 

"  What  makes  you  all  so  merry  here?"  asked  Mr.  Winterbot 
tom.  And  Mrs.  Smith,  in  a  lively  and  graphic  way,  told  of  all 
the  trials  and  sorrows  of  their  young  friends,  and  how  they 
had  just  discovered  the  mariner's  compass,  which  was  to  ensure 
them  a  safe  voyage  on  the  sea  of  life,  and  how  Mr.  Smith  had 
presumed  to  say,  that  she  needed  just  such  a  leading  star  for  her 
guidance  as  that  which  shone  out  of  the  blue  heaven  of  her 
friend  Grace  De  Lisle's  eyes. 

Grace  insisted  on  being  spared  this  excess  of  adulation.  "  From 
the  crowd  around  me,"  said  Grace,  "  on  this  evening,  it  is  to  be 
expected ;  but  from  my  own  friends,  I  seek  and  expect  the 
truth." 

Mrs.  Smith  took  Mr.  Winterbottom's  arm,  and  the  group  dis 
persed. 

"  Ah  !  my  dear  madam,"  said  Winterbottom,  with  a  tone  of 
sadness,  "  what  a  happy  fellow  De  Lisle  is  !  What  a  wife  he 
has  to  make  his  days  days  of  blessedness.  What  a  fool  I  have 
been  to  let  the  golden  hour  of  opportunity  slip!" 

Mrs.  Smith,  supposing  he  alluded  to  the  incidents  of  the  last 
summer,  said,  "  My  dear  Winterbottom — there  are  twenty  girls 
in  this  room  who  are  every  way  superior  to  Adela  Tripp,  and 
who  would  readily  change  their  names  with  you." 

"  Adela  Tripp  !"  exclaimed  Mr.  Winterbottom.  "  You  don't 
suppose  I  had  any  wish  to  unite  myself  to  Adela  Tripp?" 

"Are  you  not  unjust?"  said  Mrs.  Smith,  seriously.  "Adela 
Tripp  is  the  child  of  a  heartless  woman — trained  to  the  arts  of 
deception :  but  I  honestly  believe  Adela  Tripp  is  not  without 
heart,  and  under  proper  influences,  this  would  have  been  de 
veloped.  And  had  you  married  her,  as  I  suppose  you  could 
have  done  last  summer,  she  would  have  satisfied  your  eye,  if  not 
your  heart.  Your  home  would  have  been  bright  and  beautiful, 


.' 
440  PETER  SCHLEMIHL. 

and,  I  think,  she  would  have  been,  as  far  as  she  could  be,  a  good 
wife." 

"  But,  my  dear  Mrs.  Smith,  it  is  not  my  eye,  but  my  heart  I 
need  filled.  Is  there  a  Mrs.  Smith — is  there  a  Grace  Worth 
here  ?  If  you  will  but  show  me  one  who,  in  any  good  degree, 
resembles  either  yourself  or  your  dear  friend,  I  pledge  you  I  will 
marry  her  '  on  sight.'  ' 

Mrs.  Smith  laughed,  and  was  about  to  leave  him — but  he  was 
earnest,  and  asked  her  to  stay  one  moment  longer. 

"  You  think  I  made  a  mistake  in  not  marrying  Adela  ?  I  really 
would  have  done  so,  but  the  thought  of  her  artful  and  managing 
mother  frightened  me — was  I  right?" 

"  Perhaps  you  were,"  said  Mrs.  Smith.  "  But,  my  dear  sir, 
you  ought  not,  and  must  not  expect  to  inspire  love  in  a  Grace 
Worth,  even  if  I  could  point  her  out.  Possessed  as  you  are  of 
a  large  fortune,  endowed  by  nature  with  warm  and  generous  sen 
timents,  a  charity  open  as  the  day,  there  are  many  most  lovable 
girls  who  could  be  inspired  with  an  honest  zeal,  while  you  con 
fer  on  them  wealth  which  they  do  not  possess,  to  bestow  upon 
you  the  treasures  of  love,  refinement  and  talent,  with  which 
they  are  enriched.  One  of  these  evenings  we  will  talk  this  all 
over,  but  not  now ;  you  see  there  are  some  ladies  who  seem  un 
occupied;  let  me  task  you  to  do  the  agreeable  to  them." 

"  With  pleasure,"  said  Mr.  Winterbottom.  "  Aided  by  you 
and  De  Lisle,  and  his  dear  wife,  with  God's  blessing  I  mean  to 
be  a  married  man  before  this  time  next  year." 

And  so  he  was  led  to  the  ladies,  introduced,  and  having  a  heart 
more  than  usually  buoyant,  really  appeared  well,  looked  well, 
and  conversed  well. 

Mrs.  Tripp  now  met  Mrs.  Smith.  "  My  dear  friend,  there 
never  was  such  a  party  given  as  this  in  Babylon  !  Adela  will  be 
so  happy.  Oh !  if  she  was  only  here,  how  delighted  she  would 
be !  There  never  was  anything  so  perfect — never  anything  so 
sweetly  sustained." 

Mrs.  Tripp  would  have  prolonged  the  conversation,  but  Mrs. 
Smith  bowed  her  acknowledgments,  and  passed  on  towards  the 
dancing  saloon.  In  the  entry  she  saw  the  elder  Don  in  earnest 
talk  with  Don  Hernandez  Mendez  Pinto,  and  though,  as  usual, 
he  made  no  gesture,  he  eyed  the  lamps  with  a  savage  look,  and 
then  glanced  fiercely  at  Don  Hernandez,  who  seemed  soothing 
him.  The  moment  she  was  seen,  the  Mexican  bowed  profound 
ly,  as  she  passed  into  the  saloon,  and  walked  away  with  his 
usual  stolidity  of  manner. 

At  the  entrance  of  the  saloon,  Katrine  Van  Tromp  was  stand 
ing  alone,  with  a  serious  and  anxious  look ;  she  started  as  she  saw 


441 

Mrs.  Smith,  and  was  about  to  look  the  other  way,  as  if  to  avoid 
her,  but  Mrs.  Smith,  being  inclined  to  address  Katrine,  whom  she 
now  saw  for  the  first  time  alone,  asked  her  how  she  had  spent 
her  evening?  whether  she  had  been  dancing? 

"  No,  madam,  not  this  evening." 

"  And  how  do  your  Mexican  friends  get  on.  I  hope  they  find 
the  hours  passing  happily." 

"I  believe,"  said  Katrine,  "  you  will  find  them  waltzing." 

It  was  evident  that  Katrine  was  in  no  very  conversable  mood, 
which  was  quite  a  new  phase  for  her  to  wear :  but  their  inter 
view  was  terminated  by  the  senior  Don  coming  to  the  door,  and 
beckoning  to  her.  Katrine,  without  a  bow  or  a  gesture  to  Mrs. 
Smith,  left  her  and  followed  him. 

Mrs.  Smith  found  Lucille  and  Eugenie  Van  Dam  waltzing  with 
their  Dons,  who  seemed  unusually  ardent  and  open  in  their  de- 
votedness,  and  the  floor  was  thronged  with  spectators,  as  well  as 
those  dancing.  Mrs.  Smith  sought  to  secure  for  those  so  unen 
gaged,  the  services  of  the  gentlemen  whom  she  deemed  likely  to 
supply  them  with  agreeable  and  suitable  partners,  if  they  were 
inclined  to  dance. 

But  Mrs.  Smith  found  that  at  her  party,  as  other  ladies  have 
found  at  theirs,  there  were  some,  indeed,  many  ladies  who  were 
intolerable  and  unmixable.  They  wanted  to  dance,  but  none  of 
the  beaux  she  could  commend  would  suit,  so  they  assumed  the 
air  of  the  languid  and  the  indifferent ;  and  amused  themselves  by 
their  sneers  at  those  of  their  set  who  were  less  fastidious  than 
themselves,  or,  what  added  pungency  to  their  sarcasms,  if  those 
who  were  successful,  belonged  to  set  number  two,  or  chanced 
to  live  in  any  dubious  section  of  the  city.  To  be  sure,  there 
were  some  young  ladies  who  were  by  common  consent  beyond 
the  reach  of  this  sharp-shooting,  whose  birth  and  position  in 
society  were  fully  established.  Such  were  commended  usually 
with  faint  praise,  but,  mostly,  the  acids  prevailed,  and  the  com 
mendations  they  expressed  served  to  calm  their  consciences  that 
they  were  not,  all  this  while,  guilty  of  the  sin  of  backbiting.  It 
is  wonderful  how  small  an  amount  of  commendation  serves  to  neu 
tralize  a  vast  quantity  of  severest  sarcasm,  in  the  minds  of  some 
very  alarmingly  proper  and  singularly  virtuous  persons.  With 
such,  Mrs.  Smith  did  the  best  she  could.  If  she  found  them 
among  the  impracticables,  she  let  them  alone,  and  they  did  not 
fail  to  reward  her  for  her  pains  by  those  furtive  looks  to  each 
other,  and  brief  laughs  and  glances  directed  to  her  lamps,  which 
told,  too  plainly  to  be  mistaken,  how  exceedingly  amused  they 
were  that  she  should  have  supposed  the  devil  was  the  only  one 
who  could  help  her  to  light  up  her  house. 


442  PETER  SCHLEMIHL. 

These  methods  of  showing  up  a  hostess  before  her  face,  by  sly 
innuendoes  and  various  other  ways,  are  peculiar  to  those  who  deem 
themselves,  and  are  deemed  by  others,  par  excellence,  thorough 
bred.  Indeed,  no  one  who  has  not  been  trained  in  the  highest 
circles  dare  to  adventure,  where  a  slip  is  every  wny  dangerous 
and  disgraceful,  and  the  mean  is  hard  to  hit,  and  requires  perfect 
poise  of  manner  and  expression.  Vulgar  people  make  the  most 
wretched  failures,  and  all  their  imitations  are  odious  from  their 
want  of  tact ;  and  this,  therefore,  may  be  regarded,  with  all  pro 
priety,  the  last  point  of  finish,  only  attained  in  the  highest  cir 
cles  of  fashionable  life. 

Mrs.  Smith  would,  doubtless,  have  been  annoyed  by  all  these 
acts  of  petty  malice,  but  she  had  no  time  to  dwell  upon  unplea 
sant  thoughts  or  actions,  and  so  was  saved  from  the  painstaking 
of  all  such  people  to  annoy  and  embarrass  her.  She  had  suc 
ceeded  in  getting  up  a  very  respectable  musical  party,  and  once 
set  agoing,  they  kept  up  the  tide  of  song  in  her  music  room.  In 
the  library,  under  the  approving  smiles  of  the  venerable  Fathers  of 
the  Church,  whose  busts  surmounted  the  book-cases,  some  thirty 
veteran  whist-players  were  occupied  at  the  card-tables,  and  the 
occasional  jar  of  the  ceiling  showed  that  her  young  friends 
were  as  happy  as  youth  and  beauty,  and  well-dressed  beaux 
could  make  them. 

Mr.  Smith  now  joined  her,  and  told  her  the  Worths  were  wish 
ing  to  leave.  She  returned  to  the  saloon,  and,  for  the  first  time, 
sat  down  at  ease  between  Grace  and  her  mother.  After  a  few 
moments'  conversation  on  topics  suggested  by  the  brilliant  success 
which  had  attended  her  party,  Mrs.  Worth,  taking  her  hand  in 
both  of  hers,  addressed  Mrs.  Smith  with  much  affection  of  tone 
and  manner.  "  Before  we  take  leave  of  you,  dear  Mrs.  Smith, 
let  me  express  our  thanks  to  you  for  the  pleasures  of  this  party, 
and  for  all  those  acts  of  friendship  which  have  conspired  in  mak 
ing  this  evening  one  of  the  brightest  and  happiest  of  my  life." 

"Dear  Mrs.  Worth,  you  overwhelm  me  with  thanks  which  I 
most  gratefully  receive,  but  of  which  I  am  entirely  unworthy.  I 
can  say,  and  do  say,  I  have  never  ventured  to  influence,  much 
less  to  make  a  suggestion  to,  either  Grace  or  Mr.  De  Lisle,  as  to 
their  love  for  each  other." 

"  I  am  perfectly  aware,  dear  Mrs.  Smith,"  replied  Mrs.  Worth, 
"of  all  the  kindness  and  sympathy  you  have  always  felt,  nor  have 
I  been  unobservant  of  your  unceasing  friendship  for  Grace.  You 
are  now  rewarded  in  seeing  her  in  the  possession  of  a  man  whom 
she  loves,  and  whom  I  delight  to  call  my  son.  I  beg  you  to  be 
lieve  we  all  shall  be  most  happy  to  be  ranked  in  your  affections 
amongst  the  first  and  firmest  of  your  friends." 


THE  WORTH  PARTY  TAKE  LEAVE  OF   MRS.  SMITH.  443 

Grace  now  attempted  to  speak,  but  failing  from  excess  of  feel 
ing,  not  thinking  it  the  fittest  place  in  the  world  to  cry,  she 
changed  her  tears  to  kisses,  which  did  a  great  deal  better,  and  so 
thought  Mr.  De  Lisle,  who  came  up  with  her  father  at  that 
moment,  both  having  gone  in  search  of  Mrs.  Smith  in  order  to 
the  leave-taking.  Mr.  De  Lisle  smiled  at  the  excess  of  feeling 
which  the  face  of  his  Grace  exhibited,  whose  cheeks  were  still 
wet  with  tears,  when  he  reached  the  sofa  where  they  were  all 
sitting. 

"Dear  Mrs.  Smith,  if  I  did  not  feel  myself  under  the  deepest 
and  most  lasting  obligations  to  you,  I  might  be  jealous  of  Grace 
for  loving  you  too  well."  Col.  Worth  expressed  his  happiness 
and  congratulated  Mrs.  Smith  ;  and  Mr.  De  Lisle,  taking  her  hand 
in  his,  as  they  rose  to  go,  addressed  Mrs.  Smith. 

"  I  challenge,  for  Grace  and  myself,  the  continuance  of  all  the 
affection  and  friendship  you  have  entertained  for  us  separately." 

"  I  accept  the  challenge,"  said  Mrs.  Smith,  stifling  her  emo 
tions  in  a  gay  tone,  and  accompanying  them  with  Mr.  Smith  into 
the  hall,  they  kissed  and  took  leave.  The  heart  of  Mrs.  Smith 
was  oppressed  with  a  fullness  of  joy,  which  almost  amounted  to 
pain,  as  she  said  to  Mr.  Smith,  on  their  way  back  to  the  saloon, 

"  Dear  husband  !  I  am  too,  too  happy  !" 

The  example  of  the  Worths  was  followed  by  people  who  have 
an  odd  way  of  going  to  bed  about  midnight,  though  there  be  ever 
so  many  clever  things  to  beguile  away  the  time.  The  calls  for 
carriages  became  frequent,  and  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Smith  were  fully 
occupied  in  receiving  the  compliments  and  adieus  of  those  who 
were  retiring.  The  whist  party  was  reduced  to  a  few  desperate 
old  men,  who  were  playing  for  very  considerable  sums,  so  as  to 
keep  up  a  reasonable  degree  of  excitement ;  and  as  one  source  of 
enjoyment  died  down  to  kindle  up  another.  In  the  music-room, 
there  was  a  knot  of  ladies  and  gentlemen  who  really  loved  the 
music  they  made,  and  at  this  moment  were  executing  the  most 
difficult,  music  in  the  very  best  style  ;  the  task  no  longer  being 
who  shall  begin  first,  but,  in  fact,  who  shall  play  or  sing  next. 
The  cotillions,  as  we  have  said,  gave  place  long  since  to  waltzing 
—this  was  superseded  by  mazourkas,  and  then  the  waltzing  was 
renewed  ;  and,  as  Mrs.  Smith  found  time  to  run  up  into  the 
dancing  room,  the  party  there  had  commenced  a  Spanish  dance, 
in  which  the  Dons  and  Coldstream  Guardsmen,  who  all  seemed 
more  elastic  and  gay  as  the  night  advanced,  with  their  beautiful 
partners,  shone  conspicuous.  She  found  the  saloon  for  dancing1 
still  thronged ;  the  departures  had,  as  yet,  made  no  sensible  im 
pression  on  the  numbers  there. 

As  Mrs.  Smith  was  standing  near  the  door,  hearing  all  the  kind 


444  PETER  SCHLEMIHL. 

and  agreeable  things  which  the  "  Old  Knick"  of  Babylon  was 
saying  to  her,  Mrs.  Van  Tromp  touched  her  arm.  She  led  Mrs. 
Smith  into  the  entry,  and  asked  in  an  earnest  tone — 

"  Has  Katrine  taken  leave  of  you  ? — and  when  ? — and  with 
whom  ?" 

Mrs.  Smith  replied,  '*  That  she  had  not.  I  think  she  must  be 
sitting  behind  some  of  those  who  are  standing  as  spectators.  I 
will  ask  some  one  to  go  round  and  see,"  and  so  saying,  they  re 
turned.  Mrs.  Van  Tromp's  air  and  manner  betokened  anxiety ; 
she  enlisted  a  Mr.  Simpson,  a  slim  young  lawyer,  to  go  round 
the  room,  and  ask  Miss  Katrine  to  come  to  her,  and  tell  her,  her 
father,  and  mother,  and  sister,  were  all  waiting  for  her.  Having 
dispatched  Mr.  Simpson,  Mrs.  Van  Tromp  attempted  some  plea 
sant  compliments,  but  was  so  absorbed  and  anxious,  as  never  to 
finish  any  sentence  she  commenced.  She  asked,  "  Where  is 
Don  St.  Jago  ?" 

"  He  was  here  some  little  while  since  ;  I  saw  him  in  company 
with  Don  Hernandez  Mendez  Pinto,  and  now,  I  remember,  the 
senior  Don  beckoned  to  Katrine  as  I  was  standing  beside  her, 
and  led  her  away." 

"  Have  they  taken  leave  of  you  ?" 

"  Neither  of  them,"  replied  Mrs.  Smith,  in  some  surprise. 

"  'Tis  very  strange,"  said  Mrs.  Van  Tromp.  "  They  all  have 
disappeared  an  hour  since." 

"  Why  no  !  there  are  the  sons  dancing  with  Lucille  and  Eu 
genie  Van  Dam." 

"  Yes,  I  see  them,"  was  all  the  reply  Mrs.  Van  Tromp  saw  fit 
to  make. 

Mr.  Simpson  now  appeared  in  sight,  and  coming  up,  repeated 
"  Miss  Katrine,  non  est." 

*'  Where,  in  Heaven's  name,  can  she  be  ?"  exclaimed  her  mother. 
"  Dear  Mrs.  Smith,  good  night !  see  you  soon — delightful  party 
— very  much  entertained,  very — don't  trouble  yourself  to  follow 
me  down."  And  so  Mrs.  Van  Tromp  left  her. 

Taking  Mr.  Old  Knick's  arm,  Mrs.  Smith  made  her  way  through 
the  saloon,  and  exchanged  some  hundreds  of  bright  speeches  with 
the  young  ladies  and  gentlemen,  aided  with  the  "  light  artillery, 
charged  with  grape,"  which  her  attendant  had  always  ready  to 
bring  to  play  upon  the  masses,  and  so,  having  finished  the  circuit, 
she  relinquished  his  arm,  and  making  her  suitable  acknowledgments 
to  "Old  Knick,"  for  all  the  kind  aid  he  had  so  felicitously  and 
effectively  rendered  her  during  the  evening,  she  returned  alone  to 
the  saloon,  and  rejoined  her  husband,  who  was  on  duty,  during 
her  absence,  making  his  best  bows  to  the  retiring  guests,  and  the 
best  apologies  for  his  absent  wife. 


MR.  AND  MRS.  SMITH  RETIRE  TO  THEIR  ROOM.  445 

"  There  is  a  time  for  everything,"  said  Solomon,  and  he  might 
have  added,  without  losing  his  reputation  for  wisdom — "  There's 
an  end  to  everything."  And  so  the  young  ladies  discovered,  that, 
between  the  hours  of  three  and  four  in  the  morning,  after  having 
been  standing,  or  walking,  or  dancing,  till  about  that  time,  they 
were  at  the  end  of  their  capacity  to  hold  up  any  longer;  and  still 
under  the  high  excitement  of  the  evening,  they  wrap  up,  and 
drive  home,  and  about  half-past  four,  hardly  able  to  undress 
themselves,  fall  heavily  upon  their  pillows,  weary  and  worn  out, 
— the  very  last  degree  of  physical  strength  and  excitability  ex 
hausted.  They  sleep  long,  but  wake  unrefreshed  ;  looking  pale, 
jaded  and  worthless,  and  they  really  are  so  for  the  day ;  and  be 
gin  to  brighten  up  just  about  dark  the  next  evening,  when  they 
confidently  expect  some  glance  of  an  eye — some  soft  pressure  of 
the  hand — some  half-finished  sentence  will  be  explained ;  and  to 
all  it  is  so  delightful  to  meet  those  who  have  been  their  especial 
attendants,  and  to  talk  over  the  scenes  of  the  delightful  party  of 
the  preceding  evening.  Such  is  the  life  of  very  lovely,  fascinat 
ing,  pleasure-loving  girls,  all  the  world  over. 

The  last  guest  was  gone!  Mr.  Smith  folded  his  wife  in  his 
arms,  and  kissed  her.  "  My  love,  let  us  be  thankful  this  party  is 
over,  and  well  over.  And  now,  I  mean  to  make  sure  of  you. 
There  shall  be  no  dreaming  down  stairs  this  night.  So  let  us  go 
to  bed." 

"  With  all  my  heart,  love ;  but  wait  one  moment,  till  I  can 
speak  with  James.  I  want  him  to  take  especial  care  of  the  old 
plate  I  borrowed  of  Colonel  Worth." 

"  My  dear,  James  will  count  every  spoon,  and  compare  every 
piece  with  his  schedule.  I  fear  nothing  of  loss,  and  now  all  is 
over,  and  well  over,  I  am  but  too  happy.  Come,  love,  let  us  go 
up  stairs." 

"  Just  one  minute,  husband  !  James  !  James  !"  cried  Mrs. 
Smith,  for  as  Mr.  Smith  still  held  her  hand,  she  could  not  go  to 
the  dining-room. 

Maria,  Mrs.  Smith's  maid,  now  came,  and  asked  "  If  she  would 
now  be  undressed  ?" 

"  Yes  !  Maria,"  said  Mr.  Smith,  speaking  for  his  wife,  "  we 
are  just  waiting  for  you,  to  go  to  our  chamber."  And  so  they 
three  went  up  together  into  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Smith's  sleeping  room, 
the  only  room  which  had  remained  undisturbed,  and  which  had 
served  as  the  ladies'  toilette-room. 

Mr.  Smith  went  into  his  dressing-room,  and  was  soon  en 
shrouded  in  his  bed-gown  and  silk  embroidered  night-cap,  with 
its  tassel,  the  handiwork  of  his  dear  wife,  and  coming  into  the 
chamber,  listened  at  the  door  of  Mrs.  Smith's  dressing-room,  and 
there  was  Maria,  talking  on  to  his  wife,  who  was  laughing  away 


446  PETER  SCHLEMIHL. 

in  the  greatest  glee,  at  Maria's  amusing  description  of  her  party, 
as  seen  upon  the  stairs,  and  in  the  entries,  and,  above  all,  in  her 
own  chamber.  These  are,  indeed,  among  the  most  interesting 
incidents  to  be  witnessed.  Here,  the  varnish  of  society  is  taken 
off,  and  characters  are  shown  in  all  the  severe  aspects  of  unaffect 
ed  simplicity  and  truth.  The  reproaches  of  neglect  in  sitting 
carelessly  on  dresses — the  muddying  of  kid  shoes,  and  all  such 
little  griefs  are  then  expressed,  with  such  sour  faces  and  very 
sharp  voices,  as  never  could  have  been  conceived  of  by  those 
who  saw  the  sweet,  gentle,  downcast  looks  of  these  same  young 
ladies  two  minutes  after,  when  led  up  to  Mrs.  Smith  in  the  pre 
sence  of  her  assembled  guests. 

Mr.  Smith  rapped  on  the  door.  "Maria!  don't  keep  your 
mistress  up  till  daylight." 

"  No,  sir !  she  will  soon  be  undressed,"  and  the  girl  went  on, 
and  Mr.  Smith  listened  awhile  with  a  pleased  smile,  to  the  joy 
ous  laugh  of  his  wife,  as  Maria  continued  her  amusing  sketches 
of  fashionable  life  behind  the  scenes.  Happy  with  himself, 
gratified  with  his  friends,  and  above  all  proud  of  his  beautiful  and 
loving  wife,  now  safe  in  her  own  chamber,  in  high  spirits  and 
buoyancy  of  heart,  Mr.  Smith  laid  himself  down  in  his  bed,  and 
was  soon  asleep. 

Now,  too,  there  was  an  end  even  of  Maria's  story.  And 
Mrs.  Smith  came  out  of  her  dressing  room  looking  very  sweetly; 
her  hair  was  carefully  parted  on  her  forehead,  and  hid  under  a 
cap,  the  most  perfectly  graceful  and  bewitching  thing  that  a  woman 
ever  put  upon  her  head.  And  then  the  ruffles  on  her  robe-de- 
nuit,  were  all  nicely  plaited,  and  there  was  an  air  of  freshness 
and  beauty  in  her  looks,  which  took  away  every  trace  of  fatigue. 

Maria  and  Mrs.  Smith  came  out  together ;  Maria  still  talking 
on  to  her  smiling  mistress,  who,  holding  up  the  lamp,  discovered 
her  husband  was  fast  asleep. 

"  I  declare,  Maria,  I  must  know  from  James,  (who  was  major 
domo  of  the  house,)  if  the  plate  of  Col.  Worth  is  all  safe,  before 
I  can  sleep  a  wink  to-night;  hand  me  my  slippers  and  cloak,  and 
I  will  go  down  with  you,  and  you  shall  call  him  into  the  saloon. 
Leave  the  lamp  on  the  stand.  Now  leave  the  door  open,  so  I 
shall  not  awake  my  husband  when  I  return,"  and  so  arraying 
herself,  she  went  down  stairs,  with  her  maid. 

Mrs.  Smith  found  her  rooms,  so  recently  thronged,  now  empty, 
the  lights  still  blazing ;  the  servants  were  all  assembled  in  the 
dining-hall,  making  merry  over  the  remnants  of  the  supper,  and 
had  sat  in  to  "  make  a  night  of  it."  As  she  approached  the  door, 
Mrs.  Smith  discovered  James  seated  in  state  at  the  head  of  the 
table ;  about  twenty  men-servants,  and  half  as  many  females,  (all 


THE  SERVANT'S  SUPPER.  447 

young,  and  in  their  best  dresses.)  were  seated  around  the  table, 
which  had  been  carefully  arranged  for  the  second  supper. 

"  Ladies  and  gentlemen,"  cried  out  Mr.  James,  "  fill  up  bump 
ers  for  the  first  of  the  regular  toasts  in  course,  to  be  given  by 
Mr.  Dick  Harris,  (Dick  was  Mr.  De  Lisle's  man,)  and  to  be  drunk 
standing."  "  Bumpers !  Bumpers !"  cried  out  the  company, 
and  while  they  were  thus  occupied,  Mrs.  Smith  and  Maria  slipped 
in,  and  from  behind  a  screen  which  had  been  used  during  the 
evening  to  hide  the  wine  required  for  the  supper,  they  were  able 
to  hear,  and  Maria,  at  the  request  of  her  mistress,  made  two  holes, 
which  enabled  them  to  see  all  that  was  going  on. 

Mr.  Dick  Harris  rose,  and  made  ready  to  deliver  himself  of 
his  toast.  "  Ladies  and  gentlemen  : — 1  have  been  selected  to  give 
the  first  regular  sentiment  in  course.  I  know  of  no  one  more 
likely  to  be  well  received,  none  so  proper  for  me  to  offer,  as  the 
one  I  now  give  : 

"  My  new  and  young  mistress,  GRACE  DE  LISLE,  not  less  an 
angel  of  goodness,  though  deprived  of  her  WORTH." 

The  toast  was  drunk  with  enthusiasm  by  the  entire  company, 
and  then  Mr.  James  set  the  example  of  calling  out  "Legs!" 
"Legs  !"  "  Uncle  Tim!"  and  was  followed  by  a  general  cry  of 
"Tim,"  "Legs!"  "Legs!"  "  Uncle  Tim." 

"  Uncle  Tim,"  a  tall,  and  bright  mulatto  man,  whose  hair  was 
now  white  with  age,  rose  with  the  air  and  manner  of  a  well- 
bred  gentleman.  He  had  been  born  in  the  family  of  Colonel 
Worth's  father,  had  traveled  over  Europe  with  his  son,  and  ever 
since  his  marriage,  had  been  the  head  of  his  household.  Ac 
customed  to  hearing  the  best  conversation,  he  had  the  good  sense 
to  be  an  accurate  copyist,  and  it  was  really  wonderful,  but  so  it 
was,  his  very  voice  resembled  Colonel  Worth's ;  whose  manner 
and  bearing  were  strikingly  exhibited  in  all  he  did,  so  that  Mrs. 
Worth  used  to  say  that  ' "  Uncle  Tim'  was  the  greatest  flatterer 
her  husband  had  in  the  world,  for  while  he  copied  his  virtues,  he 
did  not  forget  his  faults."  We  have  said  before,  he  was  the  pet 
of  the  family ;  he  was  eminently  so  of  Grace,  as  we  shall  see. 
Bowing  to  the  company,  "  Uncle  Tim,"  with  the  utmost  sim 
plicity  and  directness  of  manner,  commenced  :* 

"  My  kind  friends,  I  thank  you  for  the  warm  welcome  the 
compliment  given  by  Mr.  Harris  has  received  at  your  hands.  I 
thank  him  especially  for  the  words  in  which  his  high  admiration 
of  his  mistress,  alas  !  mine  no  more, — has  been  expressed.  This 
evening,  I  heard  Mrs.  Grace  De  Lisle  toasted  by  the  gentlemen  in 

*  "  Uncle  Tim."  may  be  a  rara  avis  in  the  Northern  and  Middle  states— 
but  I  know  many  such  in  our  Southern  states. — PETER  SCHLEMIHL. 


448  PETER  SCHLEMIHL. 

this  room  as  a  goddess,  whose  name  I  have  forgotten.  God 
desses  I  know  but  little  of.  I  doubt  not  the  gentleman  designed 
to  say  what  was  complimentary  to  my  dear  young  mistress,  but 
it  did  not  strike  me  pleasantly.  From  all  I  have  ever  read  of 
these  goddesses  in  the  school  books  of  my  dear  young  lady,  I 
never  found  one  who  at  all  resembled  her.  The  toast  just  drunk 
calls  her  '  an  angel  of  goodness.'  Ah  !  she  is  so — she  has  been 
so  from  her  very  birth.  It  has  been  the  joy  of  my  life  to  see  her 
in  all  the  steps  of  her  progress.  She  was  a  sweet  infant, — as  a 
little  girl,  she  was  tenderness  itself,  and  very  pitiful.  No  pain, 
though  it  were  felt  by  a  dog  or  a  cat,  but  opened  her  heart  in 
tears.  The  highest  joy  of  her  childhood  was  to  be  with  Tim. 
'  Uncle  Tim,'  then,  was  all  the  world  to  Grace,  and  Grace  was 
all  the  world  to  me  !  To  ride  on  a  cushion,  as  we  did  every  fine 
day  for  hours, — to  go  with  me  on  my  errands,  especially  when 
I  was  sent  to  see  some  poor  person,  and  she  was  allowed  to  carry 
her  little  basket  of  cakes,  as  her  own  gift,  was  the  heaven  of 
her  being.  It  was,  indeed,  the  bliss  of  mine.  And  when  child 
hood  gave  place  to  girlhood,  still  '  Uncle  Tim'  was  her  chief 
reliance — her  lessons  were  studied  in  my  lap,  and  recited  to  me 
first  of  all;  and  when  she  began  first  to  write  'compositions,' 
it  was  '  Uncle  Tim'  who  must  tell  her  what  to  write  about,  and 
oftentimes  she  would  come  back,  with  her  sheet  of  paper,  a  few 
lines  written,  and  there  was  a  break  down,  and  '  Uncle  Tim' 
must  tell  her  what  next  to  say.  Ah!  those  were  happy  years. 
Her  trials  at  school,  and  alb  her  little  griefs,  were  poured  into  my 
breast.  '  Dear  "  Uncle  Tim,"  '  she  would  say,  '  all  this  is  too  fool 
ish  to  tell  mother,  but  I  must  tell  you,  and  have  my  cry  out,  and 
then  I  shall  not  feel  so  bad  ;  you  never  get  weary  of  my  being  a 
child.'  No  !  God  knows  I  could  have  wished  it  were  possible 
she  never  should  be  anything  else.  Such  was  my  life  with  my 
dear  young  mistress.  No  duty  but  what  was  light — no  request 
but  what  was  easy,  if  Grace  was  to  be  made  happy.  And  when 
at  last  that  sad  time  to  me  came,  when  the  dear  child  must  be 
sent  away  to  her  boarding-school,  no  letter  was  written  home  but 
had  a  message  for  *  Uncle  Tim.'  And  on  that  day  of  days,  the 
day  of  her  return  home,  always  one  of  joy  to  us  all,  I  was  sure 
to  be  the  one  sought,  next  to  her  parents,  and  in  despite  of  my 
skin,  to  receive  her  kiss.  Such  has  been  the  childhood  and  girl 
hood  of  my  dear  young  mistress.  An  angel,  indeed,  of  gentleness, 
goodness,  and  truth  !  And  on  yesterday  morning,  when  all  was 
ready  for  her  return  to  this  city,  to  her  new-found  home,  and  the 
last  day  and  the  last  hour  had  come  when  she  was  to*be  no  more 
one  of  us,  with  a  heart  full  of  sorrow  I  had  gone  into  my  room, 
there  to  sit  down  and  cry  where  she  should  not  see  my  tears,  my 


TOM  JONES'  TOAST.  449 

dear  Grace  missed  me.  She  could  not  go  till  she  had  seen  me, 
and  her  heart  told  her  why  I  was  not  there.  So  she  ran  into  the 
house — searched  for  me  and  found  me.  She  once  more  sat  as 
she  had  done  so  often  in  years  past  upon  my  knee,  she  put  her 
arms  around  my  neck,  and  tried  to  speak — but  tears  came  full 
and  fast,  and  we  wept  together — and  when  the  burst  of  grief 
was  over,  she  said  to  me — 'Dear  Tim,  oh  do  not  think  of  me  as 
no  longer  your  Grace — do  not  think  I  will  ever  give  you  up.  My 
home,  dear  Uncle  Tim,  is  yours,  now  and  ever,  as  much  as  it  is 
my  own.'  Tell  me,  my  friends,  does  not  such  a  child  of  love 
and  goodness  well  deserve  to  be  called  an  angel  ?  If  angels 
could  appear,  they  must,  in  soul,  if  not  in  form,  be  like  my  own 
dear  Grace."  The  voice  of  "  Uncle  Tim"  now  grew  tremulous 
from  emotion,  and  thanking  them  for  their  kindness  in  bearing 
with  him  in  saying  so  much,  he  sat  down,  and  hid  his  face  in  his 
hands. 

"  What  are  you  doing  there,  Tom  Jones  ?"  exclaimed  Mr. 
James.  Tom  was  in  the  act  of  drinking  another  bumper — nor 
was  he  deterred  from  doing  so ;  and  when  he  set  down  his  glass, 
he  said  to  Mr.  James,  "  I  was,  may  it  please  your  honor,  pour 
ing  spirits  down  to  keep  myself  from  crying.  Bless  my  soul !  it 
is  a  wonder  I  had  not  joined  '  Uncle  Tim'  company  before  he  was 
half  way  through." 

"  I'll  knock  you  down  next,  you  villain,"  said  Mr.  James. 

"  The  d— 1  you  will !  and  for  what?"  said  Tom. 

"  For  the  second  regular  toast  in  course. — Ladies  and  gentle 
men,  the  grand  regular  toast  in  course  should  be  given  by  me,  in 
honor  of  our  excellent  host  and  hostess,  now  abed  and  asleep,  but 
that  I  shall  give  myself,  so  soon  as  Miss  Maria  comes  down.  (I 
wonder  what  keeps  her?"  said  Mr.  James  by  parenthesis.)  "I 
bar  and  forbid  any  one  drinking  between  the  toasts,  as  out  of 
order.  Don't  you  see,"  said  Mr.  James,  addressing  Tom  Jones, 
"  if  we  drink  between  the  toasts,  we  shan't  hold  out." 

"  Won't  hold  out !"  said  Tom.  "  Why  there's  wine  enough 
left  to  drown  us  all." 

"Ladies  and  gentlemen,  let's  have  order" — (the  young  ladies 
were  quite  gay  at  the  lower  end  of  the  table) — "  order  !  order  ! 
Now  one  word  more.  Here  are  twenty-two  gentlemen  and 
twelve  young  ladies.  We  will  have  thirteen  regular  toasts  in 
course,  and  then  the  young  ladies  may  be  as  irregular  in  their  toasts 
as  they  please.  Thirteen  bumpers  to  the  regular  toasts;  every  toast 
to  have  an  appropriate  speech.  Now  if  we  don't  observe  order, 
in  this  matter,  some  people  who  are  sitting  at  the  table  will  find 
their  way  under  it" — looking  at  Tom — "  and  then  they  will  know 
what  it  is  to  hold  out  and  hold  on.  Now  ladies  and  gentle- 
29 


450  PETER  SCHLEMIHL. 

men,  we  are  to  have  the  second,  no !  the  second  is  my  toast,  the 
third  regular  toast  in  course.     Now,  Tom  Jones,  go  a-head  !" 

Tom  rose  and  stood  awhile  with  the  gravity  of  a  graven  image ; 
then  bowing  profoundly  to  all  the  company,  who  were  all  pre 
pared, — ready  with  their  bumpers,  ("Uncle  Tim"  excepted,  whose 
face  was  still  hid  in  his  hands) — Tom  turning  to  Mr.  James,  who 
was  drawn  up  in  all  the  dignity  of  his  high  office, — ready  and 
waiting  for  the  toast.  Tom  bowed  once  more  to  Mr.  James ;  the 
bow  was  returned.  He  then  took  up  his  glass  carefully,  so  as  not 
to  spill  a  drop,  and  in  a  fine  full  voice,  gave  forth  his  "  regular 
toast  in  course:" — "  The  young  gentlemen  of  the  Coldstream 
Guards" — (here  he  looked  very  knowingly  to  a  lady  opposite 
him,  winking  at  her  at  the  same  time) — "  May  they  never  find 
themselves  rowed  up  Salt  river!" 

The  toast  was  reiterated,  and  drank  away  in  spite  of  Mr. 
James's  loud  cries  of  "order  !  order  !"  When  they  had  finished 
their  drinking,  then  came  the  fit  of  laughing,  and  Mr.  James  was 
perfectly  beside  himself  for  an  instant.  He  was  gesticulating  and 
scolding  away  amid  all  the  noises,  and  the  first  words  which  Mrs. 
Smith  could  distinguish,  were  those  addressed  to  Tom  Jones — 
"  You  stupid  jackass  !  who,  do  you  suppose,  will  respond  to  such 
a  toast  as  that?" 

What  might  have  happened,  is  hard  to  say,  for  Mrs.  Smith  now 
pushed  Maria  out  from  behind  the  scene,  and  her  appearance 
changed  the  aspect  of  matters  materially.  The  entire  company 
now  called  for  the  "  second  regular  toast  in  course,"  and  Tom's 
toast  was  ruled  out  of  order,  and  should  go  for  nothing.  Order 
being  once  more  restored,  Mr.  James  ordered  bumpers  to  be  filled, 
which  was  done  with  alacrity,  and  the  attention  of  all  became 
fixed  upon  Mr.  James,  who  rose,  and  making  his  bow,  com 
menced — 

"  Ladies  and  Gentlemen  : — I  take  great  pleasure  in  offering  the 
second  regular  toast  in  course — expressive  of  my  own,  as  I  am 
sure  it  will  be  of  the  universal  sentiment  of  all  present — "  Our 
excellent  host  and  hostess,  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Smith :  Jl  pair  that 
never  can  be  matched.' ' 

"  Stop  !  stop  !"  shouted  Maria,  and  the  company  for  this  time 
were  ruled  at  once  to  obedience.  The  gentlemen  were  ready 
enough  to  drink  the  sentiment,  but  the  young  ladies  laughed,  and 
put  their  handkerchiefs  instead  of  their  glasses  to  their  mouths, 
with  a  pretty,  affected  air,  that  showed  them  admirable  copyists  of 
their  superiors,  and  so  the  company  were  brought  to  a  dead  stand. 

"Why,  what's  the  matter  with  my  toast?"  asked  Mr.  James 
with  great  astonishment  of  look  and  voice. 

"Do  you  think  I  will  allow  my  mistress  to  be  toasted  in  any 


UNCLE  TIM  TOASTS  MRS.  SMITH.  451 

such  equivocal  phrase  as  that?"  said  Maria,  in  a  tone  of  com 
mand.  "  No  !  it  sha'n't  be.  '  Uncle  Tim,'  you  shall  offer  the  se 
cond  toast — I  won't  have  that  of  Mr.  James  ;  and  let  it  be  to  my 
mistress,  for  I  mean  to  toast  my  master  myself." 

Poor  Mr.  James  was  in  a  mist.  For  the  life  of  him  he  could 
not  see  wrhy  his  sentiment  was  not  just  about  right.  But  Maria 
was  resolute,  and  was,  as  all  ladies'  maids  should  be,  the  unques 
tioned  representative  of  her  mistress,  and  James  had  to  submit. 

"  Uncle  Tim"  was  now  called  up  by  the  company  for  the  toast, 
and  with  a  smile  and  bow,  said — "  I  did  not  expect  to  be  called 
upon  again  this  night ;  but  I  will  try  to  perform  the  duty  assigned 
me.  We  have  seen  our  kind  mistress  moving  amid  a  circle  of 
our  well-known  friends — the  beautiful  and  the  good  of  our  city — 
and  winning  the  admiration  and  praise  of  her  many  guests,  not 
so  much  by  the  beauty  of  her  face,  and  the  grace  of  her  manners,  as 
by  her  kindness  and  goodness.  It  is  a  pleasure  to  serve  those 
whose  money  is  the  least  of  the  reward  they  give  us  for  our  ser 
vices.  Such  a  lady  is  our  kind  hostess,  under  whose  roof  we  are 
assembled,  and  at  whose  table  we  now  sit.  I  then  would  offer 
you,  as  the  best,  though  poor  expression  of  my  wishes  for  her 
happiness,  the  following  toast : 

"  '  MRS.  JOHN  SMITH: — May  God  give  her  to  enjoy  the  happi 
ness  she  so  well  loves  to  confer.' ' 

The  toast  was  drunk  with  enthusiasm,  and  Tom  Jones  insisted 
on  repeating  it,  three  times  three,  and  was  proceeding  to  put  his 
proposal  into  instant  execution,  when  Mrs.  Smith  appeared  in  the 
dining-hall. 

Smiling  with  an  expression  of  her  high  satisfaction,  and  full  of 
fun  and  frolic  in  her  manner,  she  addressed  Mr.  James  and  the 
company,  who  all  rose — "  My  presence,  James,  is  entirely  acci 
dental.  I  am  happy  to  find  you  so  well  occupied — and  I  have 
been  delighted  with  the  speech  of  '  Uncle  Tim,'  "  (to  whom  she 
bowed,)  "  and  for  the  kind  wish  he  has  expressed,  to  which  you 
have  all  so  heartily  responded.  Let  me  thank  you  for  the  assi 
duity  which  each  and  all  have  exhibited  in  the  duties  you  have 
so  well  and  happily  discharged.  Maria,  you  will  please  make 
the  inquiry  of  James  which  brought  me  down,  and  advise  me  in 
the  saloon — I  bid  you  all,  my  friends,  good  night!" 

Mrs.  Smith  awaited  Maria's  return,  and  received  satisfactory 
replies,  so,  bidding  Maria  to  return  and  be  sure  to  tell  her  of  the 
toasts  given,  and  all  their  proceedings  in  the  morning,  she  bade 
her  good  night,  and  sat  out  for  her  chamber.  And  as  she  paused 
for  an  instant  to  witness  the  undying  brilliancy  of  her  lamps,  she 
heard  Mr.  James  announcing  "  the  third  regular  toast  in  course 
by  Mistress  Maria  Norris."  Without  waiting  to  hear  what  it 


452  PETER  SCHLEMIHL. 

might  be,  Mrs.  Smith  was  hastening  toward  the  door  leading  up 
to  her  chamber,  when  she  heard  herself  addressed — 

"  My  dear  Mrs.  Smith,  please  stay  one  moment." 

Mrs.  Smith,  turning  round  with  the  utmost  surprise,  saw  her 
self  alone  in  the  saloon. 

"Dear  madam,"  said  the  voice  quite  near  her,  "I  am  the  un 
fortunate  Peter  Schlemihl.  And  I  have  waited  till  now  hoping  to 
see  you  alone — if  but  for  one  moment." 

"  Dear  Mr.  Schlemihl,  is  it  you  ?  How  happy  I  am  to  meet 
you  !  I  am  under  the  greatest  of  obligations  to  you  ;  and  now 
pray  tell  me,  what  was  the  conspiracy  of  which  you  warned  me 
this  morning." 

"  I  thank  you,  madam,  for  your  confidence,  and  feel  myself 
repaid  for  all  the  risk  I  have  run  to  shield  you  from  the  attempts 
to  mar  your  peace,  by  one  who  would  gladly  ruin  you." 

"  Heavens  !"  exclaimed  Mrs.  Smith,  "  who  have  I  wronged  that 
I  should  have  aroused  such  enmity — that  I  should  be  so  hated?" 

"  No  one,  dear  madam,  but  the  Gentleman  in  Black." 

"  The  Gentleman  in  Black  !  and  is  there  such  a  being  ?  And 
was  it  not  all  a  dream?" 

"It  was  no  dream"  replied  Peter;  "and  having  been  myself 
the  victim  of  his  devices,  I  have  a  deep  sympathy  with  those  who 
come  under  the  influence  of  his  unseen  and  fearful  arts.  It  so 
happened  last  year,  as  I  was  passing  your  house  on  the  night  of 
your  party,  I  saw  the  Gentleman  in  Black  going  in  as  by  stealth. 
I  knew  he  had  some  new  plot,  and  I  felt  desirous  of  seeing 
who  was  to  be  the  next  victim.  I  followed  him,  and  I  met  him 
coming  down  in  the  disguise  of  your  husband,  and  heard  him  call 
for  Patrick,  and  order  him  to  heat  up  the  rooms  as  much  as  pos 
sible,  to  put  in  pine  and  every  sort  of  combustible  into  the  furnace, 
for  the  rooms  were  not  half  heated.  Then  he  became  again  in 
visible,  but  not  to  me:  for  I  have,  in  the  strange  transforma 
tions  which  have  passed  over  me,  been  endowed  with  the  power 
to  see  the  Gentleman  in  Black,  when  unperceived  by  others.  So 
while  you  were  at  supper,  I  went  and  hid  myself  in  the  corner 
where  a  vacancy  exists  behind  that  statue,  (referring  to  a  marble 
statue  then  standing,  as  it  did  on  the  evening  of  the  first  party,  on 
a  marble  pedestal,)  and  I  heard  him  whisper,  (as  he  only  can 
whisper,)  to  Katrine  Van  Tromp  to  have  the  upper  sashes  of  your 
windows  let  down.  The  result  seemed  mightily  to  amuse  him, 
and  I  wondered  at  such  an  expenditure  of  art  for  so  trifling  an 
end.  As  he  remained,  I  too  remained.  I  saw  you  fall  asleep, 
and  the  Gentleman  in  Black  come  in,  having  assumed  the  form 
and  figure  in  which  he  appeared  to  you.  What  was  the  course 
of  ideas  he  presented  to  your  imagination,  I  of  course  could  not 


PETER  SCHLEMIHL  AND  MRS.  SMITH.  453 

tell.  I  knew  he  had  the  power  of  assuming1  the  garb  and  expres 
sion  of  an  angel  of  light,  and  to  convey  the  impression  best  cal 
culated  to  affect  your  mind. 

"  From  broken  words  and  sentences  I  heard  you  utter,  I  gathered 
his  designs.  The  scenes  in  the  mirror  were  such  as  were  ap 
parent  to  me  as  to  you.  This  magical  mirror  is  an  old  trick  of 
his,  and  when  he  laid  the  spectacles  upon  the  sofa,  I  determined, 
if  possible,  to  obtain  them,  and  did  so,  as  you  doubtless  recollect." 

"And  have  you  them,  Peter?     Do  let  me  see  them." 

Mrs.  Smith  felt  them  placed  in  her  hand,  and  as  soon  as  she 
took  them,  they  became  visible.  There  they  were,  the  very  spec 
tacles  of  the  Gentleman  in  Black. 

"Oh!  how  sorry  I  am,"  said  Mrs.  Smith,  "  that  I  have  put  off 
my  dress.  How  glad  I  should  be  to  see  the  present  state  of  my 
reputation  robes.  Do  you  know  how  to  adjust  these  glasses?" 

"  I  have  not  discovered  all  their  powers,  but  I  am  able  in  many 
cases  to  see  through  them  the  state  of  the  reputation  of  those  per 
sons  who  come  under  my  scrutiny.  And  I  will  let  you  see  my 
ability  in  your  own  case  if  you  wish  it.  Your  being  in  an  undress 
makes  no  difference  whatever,  and  to  me  you  are  never  half  so 
beautiful  as  you  are  at  this  moment." 

"Oh,  Peter!  and  can  you  use  the  language  of  compliment?" 

Mrs.  Smith  hesitated.  They  went  up  to  the  mirror,  the  same 
in  which  she  had  before  seen  herself,  and  then  curiosity  over 
came  all  her  scruples ;  so,  casting  aside  her  cloak,  and  handing  the 
spectacles  to  Peter  to  adjust,  she  surveyed  herself  in  the  mirror. 
It  must  be  confessed  Peter  had  good  reason  for  a  little  delay 
•which  occurred  in  adjusting  the  glasses,  and  that  his  entire  soul 
should  be  absorbed  in  his  admiration  of  the  beautiful  lady  who 
stood  before  the  glass.  Having  returned  her  the  spectacles,  Mrs. 
Smith  put  them  on,  and  to  her  surprise,  her  dress,  as  seen  in  the 
mirror,  was  yet  more  beautiful  than  before. 

"  Why,  Peter !  there's  not  a  single  spot  or  rent  that  I  can 
discover.  How  can  this  be  ?  I,  who  have  been  a  whole  year  in 
society!" 

"  It  is  because,  madam,  at  this  moment,  you  are  regarded,  as 
you  are,  the  purest,  and  kindest  and  truest  of  all  true-hearted 
women,  whose  every  feeling  has  been  to  promote  the  happiness 
of  all  around  you;  and  this,  therefore,  is  but  the  reflection  of  the 
universal  respect  and  confidence  with  which  you  are  regarded  by 
all  who  know  you." 

If  Mrs.  Smith  had  been  disposed  to  doubt  her  ears,  she  could 
not  refuse  to  credit  her  eyes. 

Mrs.  Smith  resumed  her  cloak,  and  returned  the  spectacles  to 
Peter. 


454  PETER  SCHLEMIHL. 

"  Now,  dear  Peter,"  said  Mrs.  Smith,  in  an  affectionate  tone 
of  voice,  "  tell  me  where  you  have  been,  and  what  you  have  been 
doing  since  the  time  we  first  met." 

"  I  have,  madam,  assumed  the  pleasing  task  of  waiting  on  your 
steps,  and  doing  what  I  could  to  shield  you  from  the  arts  of 
the  Gentleman  in  Black." 

"Is  it  possible?  how  little  I  have  guessed  you  were  so  near 
me!" 

"  Finding  you  designed  to  go  to  the  springs,  I  went  up  in  the 
same  boat  with  Mr.  Winterbottom,  and  Mrs.  Tripp  and  Adela. 
The  day  you  rode  out,  and  related  your  vision  to  Mr.  De  Lisle,  I 
acted  as  footman  behind  your  carriage,  and  thus  became  acquainted 
with  your  history.  From  thence  we  went  to  Niagara  and  Que 
bec,  and  back  to  Babylon.  At  the  springs,  I  saw  with  dread, 
the  Gentleman  in  Black  make  his  appearance  in  the  guise  of  that 
dark-looking  Mexican." 

"And  is  he  the  Gentleman  in  Black?" 

"Yes,  madam,  and  he  doubtless  came  to  throw  his  shadow  over 
your  path,  and  for  other  purposes,  which  have  this  evening  been 
perfected." 

"  Heavens  !"  exclaimed  Mrs.  Smith,  "  and  are  those  men  as 
shadowy  as  himself?" 

"  Yes,  indeed,  madam,  unless  it  be  that  Don  Hernandez  Men- 
dez  Pinto  be  a  real  man — he  may  be  one  of  his  agents,  of  whom 
he  has  a  great  many  in  this  world." 

"  And  what  next,  Peter  ?" 

"  Well,  madam,  I  felt  assured  the  Gentleman  in  Black  would 
bear  watching,  and  so  soon  as  he  reappeared,  as  he  did  with  his 
boys  on  the  day  of  Mrs.  Van  Dam's  party,  I  followed  his  foot 
steps,  and  seeing  them  about  a  week  since  going  into  old  Van 
Tromps,  I  took  the  liberty  of  following  them.  I  found  Katrine 
and  these  Dons  in  the  parlor,  with  their  heads  close  together, 
in  whispering  confab,  arranging  the  elopement  of  Katrine  and 
Don  Hernandez,  which  was  to  come  off  this  night." 

"  Katrine  eloped!  indeed,  1  am  sorry  she  has  been  pleased  to 
connect  herself  so  conspicuously  with  my  party.  It's  the  only 
incident  I  have  to  remember  with  regret." 

"  I'm  sure,  madam,  she's  a  good  match  for  the  devil  any  day, 
and  for  my  part,  I  am  glad  she's  gone." 

"  What,  to  the  devil  !     How  can  you  say  so  ?" 

"  Dear  madam,"  replied  Peter,  "  I  don't  know  that  she  is  gone 
off  with  Satan  bodily,  though  I  shouldn't  be  surprised  if  the  ship 
in  which  she  sailed  should  prove  one  of  his  demon-ships,  and 
that  those  outside  the  Hook  should  see  the  ship  sailing  up  into 
the  air  and  so  disappear." 


KATRINE  VAN  TROMP's  ELOPEMENT.  455 

Mrs.  Smith,  amused  at  the  idea,  laughed  as  she  said :  "  Dear 
Peter,  they  won't  want  for  ballast  if  they  have  Katrine  on  board." 

Peter  laughed  with  a  heartiness  which  delighted  Mrs.  Smith  to 
hear — 

"  Poor  fellow  !"  thought  Mrs.  Smith,  "  he  too  can  laugh." 

Peter  resumed  his  narrative — "  It  was  agreed  that  Katrine 
should  leave  with  the  Dons,  and  be  married  by  a  Spanish  priest, 
and  to  go  aboard  a  Spanish  ship  lying  in  the  river  ready  to  sail 
as  soon  as  they  reached  her,  for  Vera  Cruz,  on  their  way  to 
the  magnificent  '  Chateau  tVEspagne?  built  by  Don  Hernandez 
Mendez  Pinto,  at  Sombrero,  in  the  province  of  Zacatecas,  leav 
ing  the  Gentleman  in  Black  and  his  sons  to  go  their  way  to  their 
mines  once  more.  Their  plans  were  all  arranged  to  be  perfected 
at  your  party.  The  Senior  Jago  then  told  Katrine  with  great 
glee,  that  your  party  would  prove  more  disastrous  than  the  first; 
that  he  had  secured  the  services  of  the  foreign  servants  who  were 
hired  by  the  Restaurateur,  for  your  party,  and  that  they  were  all 
drilled  to  order." 

"  And  did  you  hear,  Peter,  what  were  his  plans  ?  I  asked  you 
of  these  before." 

"  He  said  to  Katrine,  everything  was  to  go  wrong — the  most 
annoying  mistakes  were  to  be  made,  and  the  lamps  were  to  be  filled 
with  oil  so  as  to  burn  till  the  supper,  and  then  the  oil  which  was 
poured  in  being  exhausted,  the  water  resting  upon  the  oil  would 
extinguish  all  the  light ;  and  in  the  confusion  of  the  scene,  the 
Dons  arid  Katrine  were  to  leave;  arid  Katrine  was  delighted  be 
yond  measure  at  the  scheme." 

"  I  am  under  ten  thousand,  thousand  obligations  to  you,  dear 
Mr.  Schlemihl,  and  I  will  live  to  remember  and  repay  you  for 
all  your  kindness."  Mrs.  Smith  stretched  out  her  hand  to  Peter, 
who  took  it  in  both  of  his,  and  pressing  it  affectionately,  carried 
it  to  his  lips. 

"  Dear  Mrs.  Smith,  it  would,  indeed,  be  a  new  and  unexpected 
source  of  happiness  to  me  to  be  possessed  of  your  friendship, 
and  to  receive  its  kind  manifestations,  but  I  have  come  to  take 
what  I  have  reason  to  believe  will  be  a  final  leave." 

"  Oh  no !"  said  Mrs.  Smith,  holding  Peter's  hand  in  both  of 
hers.  "  You  must  not  leave  me.  I  have  need  of  you,  and  shall 
be  so  happy  to  make  you  known  to  those  who  have  already  taken 
a  deep  interest  in  your  misfortunes — especially  will  Grace  and 
Mr.  De  Lisle  be  delighted  to  know  you.  You  must  stay  in  Baby 
lon,  and  make  it  your  home." 

"  Home!"  exclaimed  Peter,  "I  have  no  home — no  shadow,  no 
visibility — no  seven-league  boots — and  worst  of  all,  no — purse: 
only  these  spectacles  remain  with  me — a  doubtful  gift  to  be  pos- 


456  PETER  SCHLEMIHL. 

sessed  of,  for  I  now  too  often  see  what  I  would  be  glad  not  to 
know,  and  am  no  longer  cheated  into  bliss  by  taking  as  the  reality, 
the  semblance  of  men  and  tjiings.  No,  dear  Mrs.  Smith,  my  home 
and  place  of  rest  is  the  grave — there  only  shall  I  be  safe." 

"  And  you  never  expect  to  regain  what  you  have  lost?" 

"  Never,  madam  !  never,  in  this  life.  In  heaven,  if  I  may  hope 
for  such  unspeakable  mercy,  I  shall  be  restored  to  my  treasures 
of  love  and  affection." 

"  But,  dear  Peter,  stay  a  few  days !  The  Gentleman  in  Black 
is  gone  to  his  mines,  and  I  hope  they  may  cave  in  upon  him, 
and  confine  him  for  a  thousand  years  to  come :  and  so  you  must 
stay  and  see  Grace  Worth  and  her  husband." 

"  I  thank  you,  madam.  Grace  is,  indeed,  to  me  a  beautiful 
being,  in  whose  present  and  future  happiness,  I  shall  ever  take 
the  deepest  interest.  I  fear  I  have  seen  her  for  the  last  time." 

"  Oh  !  don't  be  so  very  sad,"  cried  Mrs.  Smith,  in  a  gay  tone. 
"I  won't  be  made  sad  to-night!  and  you  shall  stay,  and  we  will 
be  so  happy,  and  you  shall  once  more  be  light-hearted  !  Besides, 
I  have  a  particular  request  to  make  of  you.  I  want  you  to  see 
how  the  Van  Tromps  bear  their  bereavement — and  to  tell  me  the 
scenes  enacted  there,  and  how  Lucille  and  Eugenie  Van  Dam 
bear  their  surprise  and  loss  of  their  dons,  and  how  all  this  affects 
Mrs.  Tripp..  Won't  she  be  delighted?" 

"  Indeed,  madam,  I  should  like  of  all  things  to  witness  the  tears 
shed  by  Mrs.  Tripp  in  the  presence  of  the  Van  Tromps,  and 
listen  to  her  condolences — to  be  present  at  her  call  on  the  Van 
Dams.  I  am  sure  she  has  *  nursed  her  wrath  and  kept  it  warm,' 
and  her  tears  will  come  down  like  hot-shot,  and,  probably,  be 
as  explosive  as  so  many  paixhan  balls." 

"  Dear  Peter,  won't  you  stay  and  witness  all  these  amusing 
scenes,  and  come  and  tell  me?" 

"  Indeed,  my  dear  madam,  I  can  make  no  promises." 

"  Ah  well,  you  shall  write  me,  if  you  can't  come  and  see  me." 

"  Alas  !  letter  writing  to  me  is,  as  you  well  know,  most  hazard 
ous,  and  with  every  wish  of  my  heart  to  gratify  you,  I  dare  make 
no  promises  for  the  future — to  me,  more  than  to  most  persons, 
unknown.  I  have,  dear  Mrs.  Smith,  taken  great  pleasure  in 
being  so  often  in  your  society.  I  leave  you  with  regret,  Many 
hours  of  sadness  have  been  made  bright  by  my  visits  here — but 
now  they  must  terminate. 

"  And  now,  dear  Mrs.  Smith,"  continued  Peter,  "  I  have  to 
address  to  you  my  last  words,  and  I  beg  that,  being  the  last,  they 
may  be  the  best  remembered.  Happy  as  you  now  are,  and  I  re 
joice  in  every  source  of  joy  you  possess,  yet  the  time  is  coming — 


PETER  TAKES  LEAVE  OF  MRS.  SMITH.  457 

must  come,  when  you  will  need  higher,  and  surer,  and  holier  and 
purer  joys  than  any  you  now  possess,  or  which  the  world  can 
give." 

"  I  know  it,  Peter,"  said  Mrs.  Smith,  with  true  feeling — "  I  feel 
it  to  be  so,  and  I  pray  to  be  grateful  to  God  for  his  mercies,  and 
I  will  live  to  love  him." 

Peter  kissed  her  hand  once  more. 

"  Dear  Peter,"  said  Mrs.  Smith,  striving  to  withdraw  the  hand 
which  Peter  gently  retained,  "  I  must  leave  you.  I'm  afraid 
my  husband  will  miss  me,  and  think  I  am  down  here  dreaming 
once  more  of  the  Gentleman  in  Black — so  good  night !  God  bless 
you!" 

"  Dear  madam,"  still  holding  the  hand  of  Mrs.  Smith  between 
his,  "  I  have  only  a  word  more  to  say."  As  he  uttered  these 
words,  he  ceased — Mrs.  Smith  felt  her  hands  convulsively  grasped 
in  Peter's.  "  Hush !"  he  whispered,  "I  hear  the  step  of  the 
Gentleman  in  Black  on  the  stairs.  God  bless  you  !"  and  Peter 
fled  across  the  saloon. 

For  an  instant,  Mrs.  Smith  stood  amazed,  and  then  took  her 
flight  up  the  stairs,  and  rushing  into  her  chamber,  she  slammed 
to  the  door,  and  turned  the  key.  Mr.  Smith,  waked  by  the  con 
cussion  of  the  door,  had  just  time  to  raise  himself  from  the 
pillow  and  see  his  wife  casting  off  her  cloak  and  slippers,  when, 
at  a  single  bound,  she  was  by  his  side. 

As  was  perfectly  natural  for  any  husband  waked  up  at  such  an 
hour,  so  suddenly,  out  of  a  sound  sleep,  the  first  question  of  Mr. 
Smith  was,  "  What  is  the  matter?" 

44  Nothing !  nothing,  husband,"  said  Mrs.  Smith ;  "  are  you 
awake?" 

44  Certainly  I  am  !  Why,  how  your  heart  beats!  What  has 
frightened  you  ?  Where  have  you  been  ?"  were  the  exclamations 
and  questions  which  Mr.  Smith  asked  all  in  a  breath. 

"  Oh  !  I  have  been  down  stairs  with  Maria,  to  listen  to  the 
dinner  speeches  of  the  servants  ;  and  how  I  did  wish  you  were 
with  me  behind  a  screen  which  concealed  me  and  Maria  !  It  was 
really  worth  hearing  and  seeing." 

44 1  certainly  will  scold  Maria  for  inveigling  you  down  stairs  ; 
at  such  an  hour,  too,  after  so  much  fatigue.  But  why  does  your 
heart  beat  so  ?" 

44 1  came  running  up  stairs  rapidly,"  said  Mrs.  Smith,  who 
now  raised  herself  up,  and  looked  round  the  room  as  if  search 
ing  for  some  undistinguishable  object.  Her  husband  remarked 
the  scrutiny  with  anxiety. 

44  Are  you  really  awake,  husband  ?"  said  Mrs.  Smith. 

"Awake!"  cried  Mr.  Smith,  now  really  alarmed  lest  another 


458  PETER  SCHLEMIHL. 

dreadful  attack  was  impending.  "  Yes,  my  love,  why  do  you  ask 
me  ?" 

"  Only  I  was  wishing  to  be  sure  that  I  have  not  been  all  this 
while  dreaming  I  was  by  your  side,  and  was  not.  But  I  know  I 
am  here,  dearest,  and  I  am  safe.  Good  night,  dear  husband,"  and 
with  her  accustomed  "good-night  kiss,"  she  soon  fell  asleep,  the 
happiest  wife  in  the  great  City  of  Babylon  the  Less. 

Mr.  Smith,  in  anxious  suspense  at  the  strangeness  of  the  speech 
of  his  dear  wife,  and  the  beating  of  her  heart,  remained  waking, 
gazing  with  anxiety  of  mind  into  her  face,  which,  like  Eve's, 
"  whether  waking  or  sleeping,  shot  forth  peculiar  graces."  The 
heaving  of  her  breast  showed  the  child-like  serenity  of  her  re 
pose — her  pulse,  now  no  longer  unfelt,  was  slow  and  soft,  and 
dismissing  his  anxieties,  he  sunk  again  to  sleep  in  the  sweet  con 
sciousness  of  possessing  the  richest  of  all  the  treasures  of  earth  ; 
a  beautiful  and  loving  wife. 


APPENDIX. 


It  will  be  seen,  by  the  following  article,  that  the  solution  of  the  enigma  by 
Mrs.  Berkley,  is  one  of  great  value  to  the  learned  world. 

APPENDIX  A.  TO  CHAPTER  IX. 

The  following  jeu-d'esprit  is  from  the  New  York  Gazette  and  Times,  of  Friday 
Evening,  November  27,  1846. 

IMPORTANT  CORRESPONDENCE. 

At  a  meeting  of  the  vestry  of  Trinity  Church,  some  time  since,  certain 
inquiries  were  made  by  curious  members  as  to  the  precise  nature  of  the 
Bronze  Lectern  which  has  excited  so  much  comment.  The  rector  considered 
it  as  a' cumulative  proof  of  the  fact  that  they  were  "improving"  in  Catholic 
principles,  and  entered  somewhat  at  large  upon  the  consideration  of  the  addi 
tional  zest  afforded  to  the  devotions  of  certain  orthodox  parishioners  by  the 
presence  of  the  Bronze  Eagle — the  fish  in  the  window,  and  the  other  symbols 
so  profusely  scattered  around. 

As,  however,  his  explanations  were  not  satisfactory  to  some  of  the  vestry, 
a  committee  was  appointed  to  confer  on  the  subject  with  such  persons  as 
might  appear,  by  their  pursuits  in  life,  to  be  best  fitted  to  explain  the  nature 
and  object  of  the  Lectern  in  question,  to  the  satisfaction  of  the  Vestry  and  the 
public  at  large.  The  committee,  moreover,  were  authorizedj  to  ask  the  opin 
ions  of  such  gentlemen  as  by  their  position  might  be  most  likely  to  lead 
public  opinion. 

At  a  recent  meeting,  the  following  report  was  made : — 

To  the  Rector,  Churchwardens  and  Vestrymen  of  Trinity  Church,  in  the 
city  of  New  York,  the  undersigned,  appointed  a  committee  to  inquire  into  the 
nature  and  object  of  the  Bronze  Lectern,  respectfully  report — 

That  they  have,  in  pursuance  of  the  duty  imposed  on  them,  made  such 
inquiry  of  the  gentlemen,  whose  answers — given  below — speak  for  them 
selves  : 

[From  the  Bishop  of  Illinois.] 

Dear  Gentlemen — I  have  received  your  letter,  asking  me  about  the  Bronze 
Eagle  in  Old  Trinity.  I  know  nothing  about  Bronze  Eagles — they  won't  pass 
here — but  should  Old  Trinity  send  me  some  of  her  Golden  Eagles — what  a 
Jubilee  would  we  have.  Oh  don't  forget  that  sweet  smelling  Western  rose  in 
the  desert. — Jubilee  College. 

Yours,  very  truly, 

P.  S. — Don't  forget  Jubilee. 

[From  the  Bishop  of  Michigan.] 

Gentlemen — I  left  my  "opinions"  on  the  subject  you  refer  to,  behind  me 
when  I  left  New  York. 

Yours,  &c.  &c. 


460  APPENDIX. 

[From  the  Bishop  of  New  Jersey.] 

Dear  Brethren — I  have  just  received  such  a  delightful  package  of  pam 
phlets  from  my  attentive  friends  in  England  that  I  can  hardly  tear  myself  away 
to  answer  your  letter.  A  Bronze  Eagle  has  always  been  used  in  the  worship 
of  the  Catholic  Church — and  I  arn  very  glad  that  the  church  in  America  has 
the  sanction  of  Trinity  for  its  introduction. 

Yours,  &c. 

[From  the  Bishop  of  Vermont.] 

Dear  Brethren — If  you  introduce  the  Lectern  as  a  mere  matter  of  taste,  I 
have  no  objection  to  it,  but  in  any  other  point  of  view,  I  must  add  it  to  the 
"  Novelties  which  disturb  our  peace." 

Yours, 

[From  the  Rev.  J.  H.  H .] 

Gentlemen — As  I  can  see  no  connection  between  the  Bronze  Eagle  and 
my  father's  principles — "  Evangelical  truth — Apostolic  order" — I  regret  that  I 
cannot  solve  your  difficulties. 

Your  obedient  servant, 

[From  the  Rev.  M P .] 

Dear  Friends — The  Bronze  Eagle  is  a  Bronze  Eagle,  and  its  object  is  to 
hold  the  Epistle  and  Gospel.  I  believe  public  opinion  is  against  me,  therefore 
I  know  I  am  right,  but  if  public  opinion  agrees  with  me,  then  I  am  afraid  it 
is  not  an  Eagle  but  a  Raven. 

Yours  faithfully, 

[From  Wm.  H.  S ,  Esq.] 

Gentlemen — I  know  the  glorious  bird  |  it  is  the  emblem  of  the  glorious  prin 
ciples  of  our  common  country. 

Yours  respectfully, 

[From  the  Rev.  Dr.  McV .] 

"A  proper  taste  we  all  derive  from  Heaven ;"  but,  gentlemen,  my  taste  and 
my  church  principles  are  at  such  variance  on  this  matter,  that  I  cannot  an 
swer  you  with  the  precision  I  would  wish.  I  see,  however,  no  constitutional 
question  involved  in  the  matter. 

[From  Prof.  A .] 

Gentlemen — The  Roman  legions  used  an  Eagle  as  a  standard — as  the 
merest  schoolboy  could  have  told  you— so  did  the  Roman  Church— the  latter 
piece  of  information  you  might  have  got  from  your  own  clergyman.  As  a 
matter  of  curious  information  to  you,  allow  me  to  state  that  in  the  Lutheran 
Branch  we  have  none  of  these  things. 

Very  truly  yours, 

[From  the  Rev.  Dr.  P .] 

Gentlemen—"  Where  the  carcase  is,  there  the  Eagles  will  be  gathered  to 
gether."  Yours, 


APPENDIX.  461 

[From  Prof.  R .] 

Gentlemen — When  we  expose  the  ores  of  iron  to  an  intense  heat — fusion 
takes  place;  into  the  fluid  mass,  we  throw  different  chemical  substances — and. 
Bronze  is  the  result.  This  bronze  may  be  run  into  mould.  Such  I  consider 
to  have  been  the  case  with  reference  to  your  Bronze  Eagle.  I  cannot  say 
much  for  its  accuracy  as  a  copy  of  nature.  Indeed,  nature  is  seldom  copied 
with  so  much  success,  as  we  see  her  in  the  Bowling  Green  Fountain. 
I  am 

[From  Professor  A .] 

Gentlemen — It  is  a  Lammergeir ;  I  have  shot  them  on  the  Alps,  when 
engaged  on  my  Glacial  investigations. 

[From  Mr.  A .] 

Gentlemen — Do  you  call  that  thing  an  Eagle  ? 

[From  Hon.  Secretary  of  the  Treasury.] 

Gentlemen — I  understand  that  there  are  others  of  the  genus  in  Mexico. 
Will  Trinity  do  some  Treasury  notes  ? 

Your  committee,  in  addition  to  the  foregoing  letters,  have  received  a  num 
ber  throwing  a  very  little  light  on  the  subject — an  example  of  this  may  be 
found  in  a  letter  from  the  Rev.  Mr.  Shimeall — the  precise  meaning  of  which 
this  committee  confess  themselves  unable  to  discover — he,  making  allusions  to 
"  beasts  with  ten  heads  and  as  many  horns" — and  entering  into  divers  arith 
metical  calculations  based  on  the  "  seventy  weeks,"  which  are  altogether  too 
abstruse  for  your  committee.  From  Dr.  A.  they  have  not  received  any 
answer  as  yet — as  no  very  friendly  one  can  be  expected  from  that  quarter 
they  deem  it  unnecessary  to  delay  any  longer  to  report. 

In  conclusion,  your  committee  would  state  that  of  all  the  answers  received, 
that  of  the  Rev.  Mr.  P.  is  the  most  satisfactory — and  although  it  may  be 
considered  somewhat  beyond  their  province,  they  herewith  ask  leave  to  nomi 
nate  him  to  the  vacant  Asst.  Ministership,  under  the  full  conviction,  that  when, 
his  "  candlestick,"  to  use  the  words  of  the  inspired  Psalmist,  "is  set  on  a  hill,1' 
the  Diocese  cannot  fail  eventually  to  become  illuminated  by  its  beams — and 
Trinity  Church,  the  fountain  of  Bishops,  shall  behold  another  of  her  faithful 
clergy  rewarded  according  to  his  deserts.  All  which  is  respectfully  submitted. 


APPENDIX  B.  TO  CHAPTER  IX. 

ARTICLE  I. 

For  the  Daily  Advertiser  and  Patriot,  Oct.  15th,  1838. 

Having  in  a  former  communication  remarked  upon  the  discourse  delivered 
by  the  Rev.  Mr.  Emerson  before  the  Divinity  School  at  Cambridge,  rny  atten 
tion  has  been  directed  to  an  editorial  article  concerning  it  in  the  Christian 
Register  for  the  29th  of  September. — This  article  is  in  answer  to  a  corre 
spondent,  who  says : 

"  I  think,  together  with,  I  believe,  the  great  majority  of  the  community,  that 
the  sentiments  advanced  at  various  times  by  Mr.  Emerson,  and  especially 


462  APPENDIX. 

the  opinions  and  notions  expressed  in  his  address  at  the  Divinity  School,  are 
at  war  with  the  distinctive  features  of  Christianity,  derogatory  to  the  character 
and  offices  of  the  Saviour  and  Mediator,  and  tinctured  with  infidelity,  if  not 
with  pantheism  or  atheism/' 

We  coincide  generally  with  the  views  here  taken  of  Mr.  Emerson's  dis 
course.  We  should  speak  of  it,  however,  not  as  tinctured  with  infidelity,  but 
as  a  direct  expression  of  infidelity,  perhaps  as  intelligible  as  the  peculiar  style 
of  the  writer  admitted.  No  one,  after  reading  it  with  a  perception  of  its 
meaning,  can  suppose  its  author  to  believe  that  Christianity  is  a  miraculous 
dispensation  from  God.  A  strong  impression  will  likewise  be  left  upon  the 
mind  of  such  a  reader,  that  the  author  was  a  disbeliever  in  the  personality  of 
any  Supreme  Power,  or,  in  other  words,  an  atheist.  The  -words,  infidel  and 
atheist,  are  plain  words,  with  plain,  established  and  very  important  meanings. 
We  use  them  merely  to  express  those  meanings; — as  the  most  direct  and  ef 
fective  mode  of  stating  simple,  and  what  we  conceive  to  be  undeniable  facts. 
As  for  any  discreditable  associations  connected  with  the  terms,  or  any  demerit 
in  preaching  infidelity  arid  irreligion  before  the  Divinity  School  at  Cambridge, 
we  should  be  glad,  if  it  were  possible,  to  put  Mr.  Emerson,  personally,  out  of 
view.  To  our  feelings  he  is  nothing  more  than  any  anonymous  individual. 

With  the  opinion  that  has  been  quoted  of  Mr.  Emerson's  discourse,  the  cor 
respondent  of  the  Christian  Register,  who  says  that  that  paper  "  is  rightly 
regarded  as  the  organ  of  the  Unitarian  body,"  expresses  an  earnest  desire  to 
be  informed  by  its  editor,  whether  Mr.  Emerson  is  "  esteemed  by  him  as  a  fair 
representative  of  Unitarians  in  New  England."  To  this  inquiry  the  editor 
replies  at  length,  that  he  is  not  to  be  so  considered.  At  first  view,  this  seems 
well.  But  the  denial  is  of  little  importance.  It  may  be  made  equally  of  any 
individual.  There  is  at  present  in  New  England  no  Unitarian  body  held  together 
by  any  community  of  belief  or  purpose.  The  name  has  been  so  extended  as  to  com 
prehend  individuals  whose  opinions  respecting  what  is  essential  in  religion  are  directly 
opposite  to  the  opinions  of  those  by  whom  it  was  formerly  held;  and  has,  therefore, 
lost  all  meaning,  except  its  primitive,  and  now  very  unimportant  meaning,  ac 
cording  to  which  it  denoted  a  disbeliever  of  the  doctrine  of  the  Trinity. 
Whether  for  good  or  evil,  the  Unitarian  party  is,  we  conceive,  broken  up ;  and  the 
name  Unitarian,  in  any  other  than  its  original  sense,  has  become  a  name  of  sus 
picion  •  and,  if  the  present  state  of  things  continue,  will  become  justly  a  name  of 
reproach. 

But  in  denying  that  Mr.  Emerson  is  a  representative  of  the  Unitarian  body, 
the  editor  of  the  Christian  Register  is  "  not  yet  prepared  to  join  with  those 
who  condemn  him,  or  to  believe  that  he  is  either  an  infidel,  a  pantheist,  or 
an  atheist."  We  shall  enter  into  no  controversy  about  the  applicability  of  the 
last  two  names ;  for  we  mean  to  appeal  only  to  indisputable  facts;  but  we 
perceive,  that  in  an  able,  though  objectionable  article  in  the  Boston  Review, 
another  Unitarian  publication,  as  we  suppose  it  may  be  called,  the  writer,  who, 
in  controverting  his  doctrines,  discovers  no  unfriendly  feelings  towards  Mr. 
Emerson,  argues  upon  the  assumption  that  he  "admits  no  God  but  the  laws 
of  the  will's  perfection,"  and  worships  only  the  human  soul. 

We  shall  confine  our  remarks  to  his  want  of  Christian  faith.  A  Christian 
believes,  that  Jesus  Christ,  his  divine  mission  being  attested  by  miraculous 
displays  of  God's  power,  taught  us,  in  the  name  and  upon  the  authority  of 
God's  truths  which  infinitely  concern  us.  Mr.  Emerson,  on  the  contrary,  says, 
"I  cannot  receive  instructions  from  another  soul.  What  he  announces  I  must 
find  true  in  me,  or  wholly  reject;  and  on  his  word,  or  as  his  second,  be  he 
who  he  may,  I  can  except  nothing."  "The  very  word  miracle,  as  pronounced 
by  Christian  churches,  gives  a  false  impression;  it  is  a  monster.  It  is  not  one 


APPENDIX.  463 

with  the  blowing  clover  and  the  falling  rain."  That  is,  a  miracle  is  something 
different  from  the  growth  of  clover  and  the  falling  of  rain,  and  the  supposition 
of  its  possibility  is,  therefore,  monstrous.  Mr.  Emerson  talks  much  of  His 
torical  Christianity.  One  may  often  be  unable  to  speak  with  confidence  as  to 
his  meaning;  but  it  is  evident,  we  think,  that  he  can  intend  nothing  by  this 
term,  but  Christianity,  considered  as  founded  upon  historical  facts.  Of  this  he 
says,  "It  is  not  the  doctrine  of  the  soul,  but  an  exaggeration  of  the  positive,  the 
personal,  the  ritual."  "By  this  eastern  monarchy  of  a  Christianity,  which 
indolence  and  fear  have  built,  the  friend  of  man  (Jesus)  is  made  the  injurer 
of  man."  It  compels  "you  to  subordinate  your  nature  to  Christ's  nature." 
Christianity  establishes  the  truth  of  the  existence  and  perfections  of  God,  as  a 
being  infinitely  above  us,  and  ennobles  our  nature  by  making  known  to  us  our 
relations  to  him.  But  the  writer  of  the  discourse  says  :  "  That  which  shows 
God  in  me  fortifies  me.  That  which  shows  God  out  of  me  makes  me  a  wart 
and  a  wen." 

There  is  much  more  to  the  same  purpose.  But  there  can  be  no  doubt  about 
the  opinions  which  Mr.  Emerson  has  expressed.  In  denying  that  he  is  an 
infidel,  and  consequently  maintaining  that  he  is  a  Christian,  it  seems  to  us 
that  the  editor  of  the  Register  is  only  using  words  in  a  new,  arbitrary,  false 
sense.  Such  abuse  of  language  is  growing  common;  but,  as  far  as  opinions 
are  concerned,  we  know  of  no  infidel  who  is  not  entitled  to  the  name  of 
Christian,  if  it  be  due  to  Mr.  Emerson. 

But  the  editor  of  the  Register  also  characterizes  that  gentleman  "as  a  serious 
and  earnest  teacher  of  severe  and  lofty  morality,  as  an  eloquent  and  ingenious 
writer  of  sermons,  as  a  conspicuous  exemplar  and  preacher  of  simple  and 
unaffected  piety" — and  as  "  a  highly  gifted,  accomplished  and  holy  man  at  heart, 
and  in  life  a  Christian."  He  states  as  one  branch  of  an  alternative,  of  which 
he  clearly  does  not  admit  the  other,  that  "  truth  and  purity  of  heart  may  con 
sent  to  him  in  his  thinking  and  his  uttering  concerning  Christ  and  his  religion ;" 
and  of  the  disapprobation  which  has  been  expressed  of  his  conduct  and  opin 
ions,  he  speaks  as  of  "  the  clamor  of  the  world,"  and  "  the  popular  roar." 

Such  being  his  estimate  of  Mr.  Emerson's  excellencies  as  a  religious  teacher, 
it  would  seem  that  in  the  view  of  the  editor,  if  he  be  not  a  representative  of 
the  Unitarian  body,  he  is  something  better.  He  must  wish  all  whom  he  con 
siders  as  Unitarian  preachers  to  be  like  him,  equally  distinguished  as  preachers 
of  simple  and  unaffected  piety,  equally  holy,  and  equally  Christian  in  heart  and 
life.  Certainly,  with  these  views  of  his  character,  no  one  could  deem  it  a 
matter  of  regret,  if  all  professedly  Christian"  ministers  resembled  him  in  his 
essential  characteristics  as  a  religious  teacher.  This  would  be  a  state  of  things 
altogether  new  and  extraordinary.  But  ominous  and  disheartening  as  are  the 
signs  of  the  times,  there  seems,  at  present,  no  reason  to  apprehend  its  occur 
rence. 

It  is  not  to  be  supposed  that  the  laity  can  be  so  deluded  that,  under  the 
notion  of  supporting  a  Christian  ministry,  they  will  provide  for  the  mainte 
nance  of  preachers  of  infidelity.  Men  of  honorable  feelings  will  regard  it  as  a 
gross  deception,  or  as  a  strange  hallucination,  for  any  one  to  pretend  to  be  a  minister 
of  Christ,  while  he  disbelieves  that  Christianity  is  a  miraculous  dispensation,  or 
that  Christ  was  in  any  special  sense  a  messenger  of  God,  and  contends  that 
there  can  be  no  revelation  of  religimis  truth,  except  what  proceeds  from  our  own 
spiritual  nature.  Great  excuses  may  be  made  for  the  errors  and  self-delusion 
of  individuals ;  but  in  itself  considered,  there  can  be  no  combination  of  ideas 
more  incongruous  and  offensive,  than  the  conception  of  an  infidel  preacher  of 
Christ,  tampering  with  atheism,  and  indulging  in  mystical,  irreligious  speculations. 
— When  the  subject  is  well  understood,  it  can  hardly  be  doubted  that  there 


464  APPENDIX. 

will  be  an  expression  of  public  sentiment  respecting  individuals  of  such  a 
character,  which  it  will  require  some  boldness  to  call  the  clamor  of  the  world 
and  a  popular  roar. 

It  is  an  undoubted  fact,  that  various  causes  have  tended  to  diminish  the  bene 
ficial  -influence  which  the  clergy  might  exert  upon  the  community.  Some  of 
these  causes  have  been  within,  and  others  without  their  control.  The  connec 
tion  of  a  clergyman  with  his  people,  the  bonds  of  affection  and  respect  and 
of  common  sympathy  in  the  holiest  feelings,  which  formerly  held  them  together, 
have  been  gradually  weakening.  In  this  state  of  things,  nothing  can  tend  more 
to  destroy  the  remaining  hold  of  the  clergy  upon  the  interests  of  the  commu 
nity,  than  the  belief  that  they  generally  entertain  those  opinions  ivhich  have  been 
expressed  by,  or  are  attributed  to,  some  of  their  number.  For  ourselves  we  have 
no  doubt  that  the  belief  would  be  unjust  as  regards  a  very  large  majority  of  the 
Unitarian  clergy,  so  called;  whom  we  thus  specify,  because  they  are  particu 
larly  exposed  to  the  suspicion.  But  whatever  may  be  our  individual  convic 
tion,  there  is  evidently  much  danger  that  the  suspicion  will  spread  through  the 
community. 

In  considering  the  present  appearances  in  the  religious  world,  there  is  one 
point  of  view  to  which  our  attention  should  be  particularly  directed.  There 
is  one  aspect  under  which  alone  these  appearances  assume  any  particular  im 
portance;  one  fact  only  that  may  well  excite  a  strong  feeling  in  the  commu 
nity.  It  is  the  teaching  of  Infidelity  by  clergymen.  No  one  acquainted  with  society 
can  be  ignorant  that  'there  are  men  of  correct  feelings  and  principles,  ivho  receive  the 
morality  and  would  fain  receive  the  hopes  of  the  Gospel,  without  believing  that 
Jesus  Christ  was  authorized  by  God  to  reveal  his  will.  No  one  doubts  that  there 
is  much  unbelief  of  a  grosser  kind.  But  in  the  present  state  of  religious 
knowledge,  these  things  must  be,  and  excite  no  special  wonder.  We  have 
had  infidelity  and  atheism  publicly  taught  among  us;  and,  though  not  without 
occasional  equivocation,  yet,  on  the  whole,  in  their  coarsest  and  plainest  forms. 
But  there  was  little  reason  to  call  public  attention  to  the  subject.  Those  who 
received  the  poison  knew  what  they  were  doing.  It  was  not  disguised  as  a 
cordial,  and  held  to  unthinking  lips  as  the  draught  of  life.  It  was  administered, 
hot  from  the  still,  under  its  proper  name.  But  the  case  is  altered;  and  a  state  of 
things  exists  in  which  almost  every  individual,  interested  in  the  preservation  of  any 
thing  but  the  name  of  Christianity,  may  feel  it  his  duty  to  think  and  speak  and  act. 

ANDREW  NORTON. 


ARTICLE  II. 

For  the  Daily  Advertiser  and  Patriot,  Oct.  18,  1838. 

1  find  that,  by  reason  of  an  'article  in  relation  to  R.  W.  Emerson,  in  the 
Christian  Register,  of  September  29th,  I  have  incurred  the  censure  and  rebuke 
of  a  correspondent  of  the  Advertiser,  who,  under  the  signature  of  A.  N.,  has 
occasionally  called  the  attention  of  the  public  to  theological  matters. 

This  is  a  distinction  which  I  did  not  anticipate ;  perhaps  I  ought  to  say  a 
predicament  from  which  I  could  have  prayed  to  be  delivered.  But,  since  it 
has  been  forced  upon  me,  I  must  endeavor  to  meet  it  as  well  as  I  may  be 
able,  and  be  allowed  to  relieve  myself  as  far  as  may  be  done  by  a  few  plain 
words. 

My  offence,  as  it  is  set  forth  in  the  objurgations  of  A.  N.,  is  that  I  allowed 
Mr.  Emerson  more  merit  than  he  is  willing  to  allow  him ;  and  that  I  was  not 
prepared  to  denominate  him,  bluntly,  an  infidel,  (not  to  say  a  Pantheist  or  an 
Atheist.) 


APPENDIX.  465 

For  this  crime,  A.  N.  has  held  me  up  to  the  community  as  an  apologist  of 
infidelity,  and  of  "mystical  irreligious  speculations."  Nay,  I  am  not  sure  that 
an  unprejudiced  reader  would  not  understand  him  as  classing  me  amongst 
the  number  of  those  preachers  whom  "  it  is  not  to  be  supposed  that  the  laity, 
under  the  notion  of  supporting  a  Christian  ministry,  can  be  so  deluded  as  to 
maintain."  At  any  rate,  whether  he  does  or  does  not  aim  at  me  such  a  cruel 
insinuation,  the  imputation  that  he  has  directly  cast  upon  me,  is  quite  suffi 
cient,  if  sustained,  to  do  me  serious  wrong.  Situated  as  I  am,  it  wounds  me 
in  the  most  tender  part.  For,  however  it  may  appear  to  the  retired  theolo 
gian,  it  cannot  be  esteemed  otherwise  than  as  a  vital  injury  to  a  young  man, 
connected  like  myself  with  a  large  and  affectionate  congregation — whose  only 
hope  of  usefulness  and  happiness  depends  upon  the  security  of  his  hold  upon 
the  respect  and  confidence' of  his  parishioners — whose  good  repute  for  piety 
and  soundness  in  the  faith  of  the  Gospel,  is  his  life,  his  all — to  whom  a  whis 
per  against  his  fidelity  is  worse  than  a  stab  in  the  heart — to  have  his  name 
coupled,  intimately,  in  a  daily  newspaper  with  infidels  and  atheists  of  a 
grosser  or  more  delicate  stamp ;  and  to  have  the  suspicions  of  the  community 
directed  against  him  by  a  learned  doctor,  as  if  he  were  an  unsafe  teacher, 
even  a  disciple  and  eulogist  of  men  who  abuse  and  reject  the  Son  of  God. 
The  imputation,  therefore,  which  is  contained  in  the  article  in  the  Advertiser 
of  October  15,  I  feel  compelled,  for  the  sake  of  my  friends  and  parish,  as  well 
as  of  myself,  to  use  all  honorable  means  to  remove. 

And,  to  this  end,  I  must  avow  my  conviction  that  A.  N.  has  dealt  unfairly 
and  unjustly  with  the  article  in  the  Register,  for  which  he  has  censured  me. 
He  has  selected  only  the  expressions  which  were  used  in  favor  of  Mr.  Emer 
son,  and  has  not  so  much  as  deigned  once  to  hint,  in  charity  or  justice  to  the 
writer,  that  there  were  any  qualifying  and  balancing  terms.  In  speaking  of 
Mr.  E.,  it  "was  my  object  to  do  him  ample  justice;  to  commend  his  virtues 
and  not  cover  his  defects.  Perhaps,  if  I  were  a  more  experienced  critic,  I 
should  have  set  forth  his  errors,  and  named  him  accordingly,  and  left  my 
readers  to  wonder  whether  he  had  any  merits  worth  the  mention.  I  felt  that 
my  task  was  a  delicate,  though  a  necessary  one,  and  I  endeavored  to  perform 
it  as  I  would  have  had  another  do  it  if  I  were  the  subject  of  review.  I  did 
call  Mr.  Emerson  a  good,  accomplished,  and  holy  man,  and  acknowledged 
him  to  be  a  Christian  in  spirit  and  in  life ;  but,  at  the  same  time  avowed  my 
conviction  that  his  opinions  were  false,  and  his  speculations  wrong.  I  applied 
to  him  the  epithets  Innovator  and  Theorizer.  I  stated  that  many  of  his  specu 
lations,  theories,  and  doctrines,  had  always  been  offensive  to  those  who  ad 
mired  him  as  a  man.  I  said  that  he  was  not  a  fit  person  to  counsel  those 
who  were  about  going  forth  to  build  up,  or  confirm  the  churches,  and  support 
all  the  ordinances  of  the  Gospel.  I  also  used  the  following  words: — "We 
cannot  agree  with  some  of  his  sentiments;  we  cannot  approve  of  some  of 
his  speculations;  we  cannot  always  discern  the  exact  sense  of  his  language; 
we  cannot  always  be  certain  that  he  has  himself  analyzed  and  systematized 
his  opinions:  we  cannot  commend  his  Cambridge  Address."  If  it  were  of 
consequence  to  A.  N.  to  notice  my  sentiments  at  all,  it  certainly  cannot  be  a 
matter  of  indifference  to  me,  whether  he  have  noticed  them  partially  or  fairly. 
If  it  were  of  importance  to  him  and  to  the  public,  that  I  should  be  censured 
for  commending  Mr.  Emerson,  it  surely  cannot  be  supposed^  to  be  a  thing  of 
naught  to  myself  that  I  was  not  commended  for  censuring  him. 

But  A.  N.  has  not  only  given  a  one-sided  view  of  the  article  in  question, 

he  has  ventured  also  to  prejudge  and  warp  its  sense.     He  asserts  that  I  state 

an  alternative,  of  which  I  " dearly  do  not  admit  but  one  of  the  branches"     He 

does  me  injustice.     I  proposed  the  alternative  for  Mr.  Emerson,  with  the  most 

30 


466  APPENDIX. 

solemn  emotion.  As  I  fear  God's  judgments  more  than  man's,  so  was  I  sin 
cere  and  in  earnest  in  reminding  my  readers  of  "  Him  ivhose  voice  breaketh  the 
Cedars."  I  thought,  and  have  often  said,  that  the  situation  of  a  man,  who, 
like  Mr.  Emerson,  boldly  interferes  with  the  religious  sentiments  of  the  com 
munity,  is  one  of  extreme  peril,  of  awful  responsibility;  and,  knowing  how 
little  he  regarded  what  he  would  term  "  the  popular  roar"  I  deemed  it  my 
duty,  with  gentleness,  to  remind  him  once  more  to  examine  himself,  and  to  be 
assured  that  "  truth  and  purity  of  heart  did  consent  to  him  in  his  thinking 
and  uttering  concerning  Christ  and  his  religion." 

But,  however  A.  N.  may  have  construed  and  regarded  my  remarks,  it  is  a 
matter  of  unqualified  gratification  to  me  that  they  received  the  cordial  approba 
tion  of  many  of  the  oldest  and  wisest  of  my  professional  brethren,  and  of  not 
a  few  of  the  least  "deluded"  of  the  laity  from  whom  I  derive  my  support. 

It  is  cause  of  deep  regret  that  I  have  been  subjected  to  the  necessity  of  thus 
appearing  before  the  public  to  defend  myself  against  the  partial  censure  of  a 
man  whom  I  have  been  wont  to  respect.  He  has  ranked  me  with  a  class  of 
men  to  which  I  do  not  belong.  I  have  never  carried  any  "new  philosophy," 
as  it  is  technically  termed,  nor  any  loose  speculations  into  the  pulpit.  I  am 
no  follower  nor  apologist  of  Mr.  Emerson.  I  will  not  yield  to  any  man  in 
abhorrence  of  his  language  in  regard  to  the  mediatorial  office  of  Jesus. — I 
repeat,  however,  that  I  do  not  believe  him  to  be  anti-Christian  at  heart,  as  he 
certainly  is  pure,  beyond  aspersion,  in  life:  though  that  he  is  laboring  under 
a  lamentable  delusion,  and  is,  speculatively,  grievously  in  error,  I  have  always 
felt  convinced  and  openly  declared. 

With  the  remarks  of  A.  N.  that  do  not  implicate  myself,  I  have  nothing  to 
do.  Whether  they  are  well-timed,  and  wise  or  not,  it  does  not  matter  what 
an  individual  like  myself,  may  think  or  say.  An  enlightened  and  discrimi 
nating  community  will  doubtless  estimate  them  aright.  And  to  such  a  com 
munity  I  do  most  cheerfully  appeal  for  that  fair,  charitable,  and  just  appre 
ciation  of  my  sentiments  in  regard  to  Mr.  Emerson,  which  it  has  not  pleased 
A.  N.  to  allow  to  me.  CHANDLER  ROBBINS. 


O.  A.  BKOWSTSON  ON  TRANSCENDENTALISM. 

Brownson  was  once  a  Transcendentalist  of  the  cloudiest  cast.  He  is  now 
a  Romanist,  and  thus  takes  off  his  old  associates  and  friends. 

"But  after  all,  what  is  the  real  sum  and  substance  of  Transcendentalism, 
this  latest  and  noblest  birth  of  Time,  as  its  friends  regard  it,  and  from  which 
we  are  promised  the  universal  Palingenesia  of  man  and  nature, — what  is  it, 
when  reduced  to  its  simple,  positive  teachings?  We  have  been  led  through 
tomes  of  metaphysical  lore ;  we  have  been  allured  by  brilliant  promises  of  a 
recovered  Eden;  we  have  been  flattered  by  glowing  descriptions  of  our  god 
like  powers,  affinities,  and  tendencies;  we  have  been  transported  by  the  as 
surance  that  we  may  dispense  with  priests,  prophets,  intercessors,  and  media 
tors,  and  of  ourselves  approach  the  Infinite  One,  face  to  face,  and  drink  our 
supply  at  the  primal  Fountain  of  Truth  itself;  but  now,  having  lingered  till 
the  ascending  sun  has  exhaled  the  dewdrops  and  exhausted  the  gems  of  pre 
cious  stones  which  sparkled  in  rich  profusion  at  our  feet,  what  is  the  real 
and  positive  value  of  what  has  so  long  detained  and  charmed  us?  Things 
.are  what  they  are ;  man  is  what  he  is,  and  by  a  right  use  of  his  faculties,  may 
be,  do,  and  know  all  he  can  be,  do,  and  know.  So  far  as  we  are  wise,  good, 
and  loving,  so  far  as  we  have  and  know  wisdom,  goodness,  love ;  we  have 
and  know  God,  in  so  far  as  he  is  wisdom,  goodness,  love.  He  who  knows 


APPENDIX.  467 

more  of  these  knows  more  than  he  who  knows  less.  If  the  possession  of 
wisdom,  goodness,  love,  be  inspiration,  then  he  who  has  the  most  wisdom, 
goodness,  love,  is  the  most  inspired, — and  to  be  more  inspired,  he  must  get 
more  wisdom,  goodness,  love.  To  be  more  inspired,  he  must  be  more  inspired. 
If  white  be  white,  then  white  is  white ;  if  black  be  black,  then  what  is  black 
is  black ;  if  two  be  two,  then  two  are  two.  Or,  in  two  grand  formulas  from 
Mr.  Parker,  ' Goodness  is  goodness,'  and 'Be  good  and  do  good,'  and — you 
will  be  good  and  do  good !  If  this  is  not  the  whole  of  Transcendentalism, 
when  divested  of  its  denials,  its  blasphemy,  and  its  impiety,  and  reduced  to 
its  simple  dogmatical  teaching,  then  we  have  given  days,  weeks,  months, 
and  years,  to  its  study  to  no  purpose.  Stated  in  plain  and  simple  terms,  it  is 
the  veriest  commonplace  imaginable.  It  is  merely  '  much  ado  about  no 
thing,'  or  'a  tempest  in  a  teapot.'  Dressed  up  in  the  glittering  robes  of  a 
tawdry  rhetoric,  or  wrapped  in  the  mystic  folds  of  an  unusual  and  unintelli 
gible  dialect,  it  may  impose  on  the  simple  and  credulous ;  but  to  attempt  to 
satisfy  one's  spiritual  wants  with  it  is  as  vain  as  to  attempt  to  fill  one's  self 
with  the  east  wind,  or  to  warm  one's  freezing  hands  on  a  cold  winter's  night 
by  holding  them  up  to  the  moon.  Yet  its  teachers  are  the  great  lights  of  this 
age  of  light,  before  whom  all  the  great  lights  of  past  times  pale  as  the  stars 
before  the  sun.  Men  and  women,  though  some  mistake  not  in  a  lunatic 
hospital,  run  after  them  with  eagerness,  hang  with  delight  on  their  words, 
and  smack  their  lips  as  if  feeding  on  honey.  Protestant  populations  on  whom 
the  sun  of  the  Reformation  shines  in  its  effulgence,  are  moved,  run  towards 
their  teachers,  are  about  to  hail  it  as  the  Tenth  Avatar,  come  to  redeem  the 
world.  Wonderful  teachers!  Wonderful  populations!  Wonderful  age ! 

"In  conclusion;  while  surveying  the  mass  of  absurdities  and  impiety 
heaped  together  under  the  name  of  Transcendentalism,  and  which  attract  so 
many,  and  even  some  of  our  own  friends  whose  kindness  of  heart,  whose 
simple  manners,  and  whose  soundness  of  judgment  on  all  other  subjects  com 
mand  our  love  and  esteem,  we  have  been  forcibly  struck  with  the  utter  im 
potence  of  human  reason  to  devise  a  scheme  which  reason  herself  shall  not 
laugh  to  scorn.  As  often  as  a  man  has  attempted  of  himself  alone  to  build  a 
tower  which  should  reach  to  heaven,  or  to  connect  by  his  own  skill  and  labor 
the  earthly  with  the  celestial,  and  make  a  free  and  easy  passage  from  one  to 
the  other,  the  Lord  has  derided  his  impotent  efforts,  confounded  his  language, 
and  made  confusion  more  confused.  Uniform  failure  should  teach  us  the 
folly  of  the  attempt,  and  lead  us  to  ask,  if  that  be  not  the  highest  reason  to 
bow  to  the  divine  reason,  and  the  most  perfect  freedom  to  have  no  will  but 
the  will  of  God.  '  0  Israel !  thou  destroyest  thyself;  ia  me  is  thy  help.'  " 


APPENDIX  C.  TO  CHAPTER  IX. 

NO.  I. 

Editorial  Article  of  the  New  York  Observer  for  Saturday,  Nov.  10,  1838. 

PERSONAL  EXISTENCE  OF  GOD. 

The  prevalence  of  Transcendental  philosophy  in  and  around  Boston,  is 
producing  strange  effects  on  Unitarianism.  With  such  a  basis,  it  can  no  longer 
be  what  it  formerly  was.  The  new  forms  which  it  is  taking  are  various. 
Some  of  the  Transcendentalists  show  a  considerable  amount  of  religious  feel 
ing,  and  appear  to  be  almost  orthodox;  while  others  embrace  various  new 
modifications  of  error.  Of  late,  quite  a  sensation  has  been  produced  among 


468  APPENDIX. 

them  by  a  discourse  of  Mr.  Emerson,  in  which  he  is  understood  to  deny  the 
personal  existence  of  God. 

Mr.  Emerson  was  formerly  pastor  of  a  Unitarian  church  in  Boston,  where, 
he  became  conspicuous  by  advocating  the  disuse  of  the  Lord's  Supper,  which 
he  considered  an  antiquated  ordinance,  needed  only  in  the  first  ages  of  Chris 
tianity.  For  several  years  past,  he  has  been  engaged  in  various  literary  pur 
suits.  Notwithstanding  something  of  mysticism  in  his  style  of  thought,  he  is 
an  exceedingly  elegant  writer.  He  was  selected  by  the  last  graduating  class 
of  the  Theological  Department  of  Harvard  College,  to  deliver  an  address 
before  them.  That  address,  which  has  been  published,  is  said  to  contain  the 
startling  doctrine  to  which  we  have  alluded.  We  have  not  seen  the  address, 
but  we  gather  from  the  notices  of  it  that  we  have  seen,  and  from  our  own 
knowledge  of  his  train  of  thought  for  some  years  past,  that  he  considers  God 
to  be  merely  those  principles,  or  eternal,  immutable  truths,  which  govern  the 
universe;  the  laws,  for  example,  of  gravitation,  electricity,  and  the  like,  in  the 
world  of  matter,  and  the  laws  which  connect  happiness  with  virtue  and  pain 
with  crime,  in  the  moral  world.  The  idea  of  a  LIVING  GOD,  a  being  con 
scious  of  his  own  existence,  who  enforces  these  laws  and  produces  the  effects 
that  take  place  according  to  them,  he  would  consider  as  a  fiction  of  the  human 
mind  for  its  own  convenience,  useful  in  its  day  as  a  means  of  enabling  men  to 
conceive  clearly  of  existence  of  those  laws,  and  to  depend  on  the  certainty  of 
their  execution;  but  which  maybe  laid  aside  by  the  cultivated  intellect  in 
this  age  of  light.  The  Bible  and  Christianity,  we  presume,  he  does  not  pro 
fess  to  reject ;  but  considers  them  as  containing  the  true  system  of  the  universe, 
exhibited  in  the  best  form  of  which  the  human  mind,  in  those  dark  ages,  was 
capable. 

The  appearance  of  this  doctrine  among  them  has  caused  not  a  little  alarm 
and  anxiety  in  the  Unitarian  ranks.  Is  Unitarianism  coming  to  this?  Does 
it  lead  to  this?  Shall  it  have  the  reputation  of  leading  men  to  this?  Are  all 
our  Transcendental  brethren,  whose  numbers  and  talents,  especially  among  the 
younger,  are  far  from  contemptible, — are  they  coming  to  this?  And  if  so, 
what  will  become  of  Unitarianism  itself?  If  Atheism, — for  such  they  con 
sider  it — is  to  be  advocated  by  our  pastors,  what  will  become  of  the  flocks  ? 
These  are  very  serious  questions ;  and  the  apprehensions  which  they  imply 
have  caused  some  discussion.  A  sermon  has  been  published  in  reply  to  Mr. 
Emerson's  address,  and  several  articles  have  appeared  in  the  papers. 

In  one  respect,  this  is  the  most  plausible,  and  therefore  the  most  dangerous 
form  of  infidelity,  that  we  have  yet  seen.  At  first  view,  it  appears  to  leave 
the  whole  code  of  morals  unimpaired.  The  laws  of  morality,  inward  and 
outward,  instead  of  being  nullified  or  changed  by  it,  are  deified.  And  their 
sanctions  have  quite  an  imposing  appearance.  God, — that  is,  the  unchangeable 
laws  of  the  universe, — is  omnipotent  and  omnipresent,  and  will  certainly 
make  the  virtuous  happy  and  the  vicious  miserable.  But  for  this  good  ap 
pearance,  we  are  sure  that  a  gentleman  of  Mr.  Emerson's  taste,  feelings  and 
moral  habits  could  not  have  adopted  it.  We  have  thought  it  might  be  use 
ful,  therefore,  to  examine  its  claims  in  respect  to  this  very  point;  especially 
as  we  believe  that  the  opposite  doctrine,  the  personal  existence  of  the  LIVING 
GOD,  is  not  realized  as  it  needs  to  be,  by  vast  multitudes,  and  even  by  many 
really  pious  persons. 

Are  then  the  moral  laws  which  govern  us,  unaffected  by  Mr.  Emerson's 
doctrine  ?  Far  from  it.  Our  whole  duty  to  God  is  changed,  if  not  annihilated. 
If  he  is  not  the  LIVING  GOD  ;  if  he  does  not  know  what  he  is  doing  and  intend 
our  welfare  when  he  does  us  good,  he  certainly  has  no  claim  upon  our  grati 
tude.  No  man  feels  thankful  to  the  principles  of  arithmetic,  for  the  answers 


APPENDIX.  469 

which  he  procures  by  means  of  them.  They  do  not  intend  his  benefit,  and 
therefore  have  no  claim  upon  his  gratitude.  Nor  can  we  feel  thankful  to 
the  laws  of  planetary  motion,  for  the  regular  succession  of  "  seed  time  and 
harvest,  summer  and  winter,  day  and  night/'  Why  should  we?  The  laws 
of  planetary  motion  do  not  foresee  our  wants,  feel  compassion  or  kindness 
for  us,  and  turn  the  world  about  as  our  necessities  require,  with  the  intention 
of  doing  us  good. 

It  is  no  answer  to  say,  that  the  God  to  whom  we  should  be  thankful  is  not 
one  particular  law,  but  the  sum-total  of  the  laws  of  the  universe.  There  is 
nothing  to  build  gratitude  upon  in  that  total,  which  is  not  equally  found  in 
all  its  parts.  The  laws  of  the  universe  are  as  destitute  of  consciousness,  of 
knowledge,  of  kind  intention,  as  the  particular  laws  of  planetary  motion. 

We  cannot  be  thankful  to  the  principles  of  the  universe  for  our  existence 
even;  for  those  principles,  when  they  brought  us  into  existence,  were  not 
even  aware  of  their  own  existence,  and  could  not  intend  to  make  us,  or  know 
that  they  were  doing  it.  Gratitude  implies  the  recognition  of  kind  inten 
tions  in  our  benefactor ;  and  therefore  it  cannot  be  felt,  where  we  know  that 
no  kindness  was  intended.  On  Mr.  Emerson's  principles,  it  would  be  absurd 
to  thank  God  for  anything. 

This  doctrine,  too,  annihilates  all  that  confidence  in  God,  which  is  founded 
on  a  belief  that  he  is  kindly  disposed  towards  us.  We  cannot  trust  in  him  as 
a  God  of  mercy.  We  cannot  believe  that,  "like  as  a  father  pitieth  his  chil 
dren,  so  the  Lord  pitieth  them  that  fear  him."  His  mercy  can  be  nothing 
but  a  blind,  unconscious  rule,  by  which  the  connection  between  crime  and 
pain  is  sometimes  severed.  He  has  no  feeling  of  mercy  towards  us,  for  he 
has  no  feeling  at  all,  of  any  kind.  The  principles  of  the  universe  are  at 
work,  carrying  all  things  on,  straight  forward ;  and  our  destiny  must  be  just 
what  this  vast  machinery  necessarily  grinds  out  for  us.  We  may  rely,  as 
much  as  our  knowledge  will  enable  us  to  do,  on  the  stability  of  the  laws  by 
which  all  events  are  governed ;  but  we  may  not  feel  that  a  superior  Intel- 
ligence  watches  over  events,  with  a  kind  regard  for  Our  welfare. 

Prayer,  according  to  this  doctrine,  is  absurd.  What  traveler,  apprehending 
danger  from  the  explosion  of  a  boiler,  prays  to  the  laws  which  regulate  the 
expansive  force  of  steam  ?  Who,  when  he  eats,  prays  to  the  principles  of 
physiology,  that  the  food  may  be  digested  and  made  to  strengthen  him? 
What  manufacturer  humbly  entreats  the  principle  of  gravitation  to  act  on  the 
water  and  turn  the  wheels  of  his  machinery?  Especially,  prayer  for  pardon 
can  have  no  place.  He  who  detects  himself  in  an  arithmetical  error,  cannot, 
seriously  and  honestly,  confess  his  sin  to  the  principles  of  arithmetic,  and  im 
plore  their  forgiveness.  Such  confessions  and  petitions,  from  their  very  nature, 
can  be  made  in  earnest  only  to  some  person,  supposed  to  be  capable  of  hear 
ing,  understanding,  and  pardoning. 

Nor  can  the  believer  in  this  doctrine  possibly  feel  any  reverence  for  God. 
He  cannot  feel  that  God  is  voluntarily  wise  and  good,  and  therefore  worthy  of 
veneration.  Indeed,  he  cannot  feel  that  God  is,  in  strictness  of  speech,  either 
wise  or  good  at  all;  as  wisdom  and  goodness  are,  strictly,  attributes  of  some 
intelligent  being.  The  believer  in  this  doctrine  cannot  look  up  to  a  being  of 
a  higher  and  holier  nature  than  his  own.  His  God,  to  be  sure,  operates  inces 
santly,  accurately,  and  irresistibly  ;  but  blindly,  without  intention,  and  without 
knowing  what  he  does.  The  believer  is  conscious  of  his  own  existence, 
and  perceives  and  understands  the  things  around  him ;  and  therein  is  supe 
rior  to  his  imagined  God.  He  must,  therefore,  be  destitute  of  that  humility, 
which  a  contrasting  of  himself  with  the  LIVING  GOD  would  inspire. 

A  believer  in  this  doctrine  cannot  regard  himself  as  morally  accountable  to 


470  APPENDIX. 

God.  He  may  perceive  the  advantage  of  doing  as  God  prescribes.  He  may 
see  the  necessity  of  avoiding  crime,  if  he  would  escape  pain.  He  may 
see  the  mighty  wheels  of  the  universe  rolling  on,  according  to  fixed  and 
unalterable  laws;  and  may  be  aware  that  he  must  conform  his  movements  to 
theirs,  or  be  crushed.  But  his  feeling  must  be  the  same  in  kind  with  that  of 
a  man  standing  upon  a  rail-road,  when  he  sees  the  engine  approaching, — a 
mere  sense  of  the  necessity  of  moving  out  of  the  way,  to  avoid  being  crushed. 
He  cannot  feel  that  God  has  any  claims  upon  him,  which  it  would  be  not 
only  dangerous,  but  wrong,  to  disregard.  He  cannot  feel  that  God  cares  how 
he  conducts,  is  pleased  when  he  obeys,  or  displeased  when  he  sins.  He  may 
believe  that  his  own  soul  is  a  sort  of  self-registering  thermometer,  on  which 
all  its  own  acts  are  recorded,  so  that  their  legitimate  effects  on  his  future 
pleasures  and  pains  are  inevitable ;  but  he  cannot  feel  that  God  literally  ob- 
serves  his  actions,  or  intends  to  call  him  to  account  for  them. 

Whether  this  doctrine  makes  equal  havoc  of  the  laws  which  should  govern 
our  conduct  towards  men,  we  have  not  time  now  to  inquire ;  but  we  are  sure 
that  it  seriously  affects  the  probability  of  their  observance.  For  this,  there 
are  two  obvious  reasons.  Man  needs  the  ideas  and  feelings  which,  as  we 
have  shown,  this  belief  excludes,  to  tame  his  proud  and  wayward  spirit,  to 
give  him  humble  and  submissive  emotions,  and  to  subject  his  heart  to  the 
dominion  of  law.  Without  a  God  to  love,  revere,  and  trust,  the  heart  of  man 
cannot  be  made  the  home  of  virtuous  emotions.  And  man  needs  to  feel,  also, 
that  his  fellow  men  are  dear  to  God ;  that  if  he  injures  them,  God  sees  it  and 
is  displeased ;  that  if  good  is  done  to  them,  God  rejoices  in  their  happiness. 
He  needs  to  feel  that,  in  caring  for  their  happiness,  he  sympathizes  with  God; 
and  that  in  promoting  it,  he  is  working  together  with  God.  He  who  feels 
nothing  of  this,  will  not  feel  towards  his  fellow  men  as  he  ought.  And  as  to 
the  laws  of  the  universe, — he  may  think  that  Moses  and  the  prophets  did  not 
calculate  their  operation  correctly,  and  that,  though  those  laws  will  certainly 
be  executed,  he  may  do  many  things  which  the  Bible  forbids,  and  yet  receive 
no  injury  from  them. 

Mr.  Emerson's  doctrine,  therefore,  does  not  meet  the  wants  of  our  moral 
nature;  it  does  not  enable  us  to  fulfil  the  demands  of  conscience ;  it  deprives 
us  of  many  ideas,  without  which  we  cannot  be  what  we  know  we  ought  to 
be ;  and,  therefore,  according  to  an  important  principle  of  the  Transcendental 
philosophy,  it  must  be  false. 


Editorial  Article  for  New  York  Observer,  Saturday,  November  17,  1838. 

NO.  II. 

TRANSCENDENTALISM. 

"  What  is  Transcendentalism  ?"  We  have  seen  and  heard  this  question 
several  times  of  late  ;  and  perhaps  our  mention  of  the  subject  las't  week  lays 
us  under  some  obligation  to  attempt  an  answer ;  though  it  will  impose  upon 
us  the  necessity  of  going  into  some  historical  details,  which  many  of  our 
readers  will  find  uninteresting. 

We  must  even  go  back  to  the  conversation,  which,  Locke  tells  us,  was  the 
occasion  of  his  writing  his  treatise  on  the  human  understanding.  He  had 
been  listening  to  a  discussion  in  which,  it  appeared  to  him,  the  subject  was 
beyond  the  reach  o£  the  human  mind.  This  prompted  him  to  write  a  treat 
ise  which  should  preserve  men  from  such  mistakes,  by  showing  on  what 


APPENDIX.  471 

subjects  men  might  really  have  ideas.  He  began  his  treatise,  by  arguing  that 
men  have  no  innate  ideas.  He  next  laid  down  the  doctrine,  that  all  our 
ideas  are  acquired  either  by  sensation  or  reflection.  He  then  went  on  to  show- 
how,  by  the  use  of  these  faculties,  many  of  our  most  important  ideas  are  ac 
quired. 

There  has  been  some  dispute  as  to  the  meaning  which  he  attached  to  the 
term  reflection.  We  think,  however,  that  the  general  scope  and  object  of  his 
work  show  clearly  what  he  meant  by  it.  His  object  was,  to  teach  men  on 
what  subjects  they  might  have  ideas.  This  he  attempted  to  accomplish,  by 
considering  the  origin  of  our  ideas.  His  doctrine  was,  that  we  may  have 
ideas  on  all  subjects  concerning  which  our  senses  can  give  us  information; 
and  that  on  those  subjects  we  may  have  two  classes  of  ideas ;  first,  those  which 
we  receive  through  the  senses,  and  secondly,  ideas  formed  by  reflection,  from 
materials  furnished  by  the  senses.  He  could  not  mean  that  reflection  is  an 
original  and  independent  source  of  knowledge,  which  might  furnish  us  with 
ideas  not  ultimately  derived  from  sensation ;  for  this  would  have  defeated  the 
great  object  of  his  book, — which  was,  to  ascertain,  by  considering  the  origin 
of  our  ideas,  what  ideas  we  could  possibly  have.  Indeed,  we  believe  that 
Locke  himself  sufficiently  fixed  the  meaning  of  the  word,  in  some  of  the  con 
troversial  writings  to  which  his  work  gave  rise. 

The  French  followers  of  Locke  made  the  system  even  more  openly  sensu 
ous  than  he  had  done.  They  are  very  clear  in  limiting  our  ideas  to  the  in 
formation  conveyed  to  us  by  the  senses,  and  the  same  information  modified 
by  reflection.  Some  of  them  call  our  ideas,  except  those  of  direct  perception, 
transformed  sensations.  Volney,  in  his  "  Ruins,"  argues  expressly,  that  on 
subjects  not  cognizable  by  the  senses,  there  can  be  no  uniformity  of  opinion 
because  there  can  be  no  knowledge.  Such  was  the  current  doctrine  of  the 
atheistic  philosophers  of  the  last  century.  More  recently,  the  same  philosophy, 
in  a  coarser  form,  has  been  thrust  before  our  eyes  in  this  city,  on  the  pages  of 
the  "  Free  Enquirer."  Robert  Dale  Owen  and  his  coadjutors  disavowed  all 
belief  in  the  realities  of  the  unseen  world,  because  it  is  unseen.  They  main 
tained  that  if  there  is  a  God,  we  have  no  facilities  by  which  we  can  come  to 
the  knowledge  of  his  existence. 

Another  inference  from  Locke's  philosophy  has  been,  that  men  are  not  re 
sponsible  for  their  belief.  It  is  said,  that  our  ideas  must  inevitably  be  just 
what  the  external  objects  around  us  impress  upon  the  mind  through  the 
senses ;  and  as  it  does  not  depend  on  us  whether  the  sun  shall  shine,  or  whether 
we  shall  see  it  when  it  shines,  or  believe  it  when  we  see  it,  we  are  not  re 
sponsible  for  our  belief;  and  as  for  subjects  on  which  the  external  world 
does  not  govern  our  belief  through  the  senses, — we  can  know  nothing  about 
them. 

It  was  predicted  by  Locke's  antagonists,  while  he  was  yet  alive,  that  his 
work  would  lead  to  Unitarianism ;  and  the  prediction  has  been  fulfilled.  In 
the  abridged  form  of  Crousaz's  Logic,  it  was  the  means  of  introducing  Unitari 
anism  into  Geneva.  Sember,  and  the  other  early  German  Rationalists,  were 
substantially  of  his  school.  The  New-England  Unitarians  of  the  "  Old  School," 
as  they  call  themselves,  are  decided  advocates  of  Locke.  Indeed,  Locke  him 
self  is  claimed  as  a  Unitarian,  and  we  know  not  that  the  claim  can  be  success 
fully  resisted. 

But  David  Hume  surpassed  all  the  other  followers  of  Locke,  both  in  meta 
physical  ability,  and  in  the  importance  of  the  results  of  his  writings.  He 
habitually  argues,  concerning  one  thing  and  another, — "  we  can  have  no  idea 
on  this  or  that  subject,  because  there  is  no  impression,  from  which  we  could 
derive  it."  Assuming  the  truth  of  the  premises  which  Locke  had  furnished, 


472  APPENDIX. 

he  argued  that  we  cannot  know  whether  the  world  around  us  actually  exists, 
or  whether  it  only  seems  to  us  to  exist.  He  attacked  the  argument  of  theo 
logians,  that  there  must  be  a  first  cause  of  all  things,  by  asserting  that  we 
neither  have  nor  can  have  any  idea  of  causation ;  as  all  we  know  is,  that  one 
impression  on  our  own  mind  conies  after,  or  seems  to  have  come  after,  another 
impression.  One  of  his  essays  was  written  purposely  to  explode  the  current 
idea  of  "  necessary  connection.'1  He  carried  to  its  full  extent,  and  without 
disguise,  the  doctrine  of  Locke,  Paley,  and  others,  that  virtuous  and  profitable 
are  only  different  terms  for  the  same  idea. 

Hume's  conclusions  startled  the  philosophers  of  Scotland.  At  first,  they 
knew  not  how  to  reply.  It  is  expressly  admitted  by  Reid,  and  also  by  Dugald 
Stewart,  that  Hume's  reasonings  are  strictly  logical;  that  no  full  believer  in 
Locke  had  answered  them,  or  ever  could  answer  them.  Yet  his  conclusions 
were  evidently  false.  They  inferred,  therefore,  that  Locke's  philosophy,  though 
containing  much  valuable  truth,  must  be  essentially  defective.  After  much 
patient  and  careful  investigation,  they  discovered,  as  they  supposed,  the  defect. 
They  maintained  that,  besides  the  ideas  with  which  the  senses  furnish  us, 
there  are  certain  "  maxims  or  principles  of  common  sense;"  certain  "funda 
mental  laws  of  belief;"  or  "  elementary  principles  of  human  reason,"  which 
are  of  supreme  authority  in  the  domain  of  mind.  Stewart  thinks  they  may 
be  called  "  Transcendental  truths."  What  these  truths  are,  was  a  matter  of 
some  discussion,  and  several  rules  were  laid  down,  for  distinguishing  them. 
One  of  them  is,  that  the  testimony  of  our  senses,  when  fairly  taken  and  under 
stood,  is  to  be  believed.  In  general,  they  must  be  such  as  every  man  must 
inevitably  believe,  and  as  even  he  who  denies  them  must  still  assume  as  true, 
in  his  reasonings  against  them.  For  example,  he  who  argues  that  neither 
himself  nor  any  body  else  exists,  must  still  take  for  granted  that  he,  the  rea- 
soner,  and  those  whom  he  addresses,  do  yet  exist. 

Here,  we  see,  the  universality  of  Locke's  rule  concerning  the  origin  of  our 
ideas  is  denied.  Stewart  maintains  that,  though  sensation  is  indispensable  to 
rouse  the  mind  to  activity,  yet,  when  once  made  to  act,  the  mind  has  a  power 
of  elaborating  certain  ideas  of  itself;  of  seeing  truths  which  do  not  rest,  either 
directly  or  remotely,  on  the  testimony  of  sense. 

Kant,  the  German  metaphysician,  took  a  bolder  course.  Reflecting  on 
Hume's  doctrine,  that  we  can  have  no  idea  of  causation,  he  said  to  himself — 
for  substance  : — "  True,  the  senses  can  neither  furnish  me  with  the  idea  of 
causation,  nor  with  materials  out  of  which  I  can  make  it.  I  can  neither  see, 
with  my  eyes,  the  necessary  connection  between  two  events  which  we  regard 
as  cause  and  effect,  nor  any  materials  of  which  that  connection  is  composed. 
Yet  I  have  the  idea.  It  belongs  to  me  as  a  rational  being.  It  is  an  idea  of 
reason,  and  not  of  sense."  He  concluded  that  "the  reason"  is  capable  of 
furnishing  us  with  ideas  of  a  class  different  from  those  of  sensation,  and  pro 
ceeds  to  inquire  what  those  ideas  are.  A  host  of  writers  in  Germany,  France 
and  England  have  followed  up  the  inquiry.  They  agree  in  referring  to  the 
reason,  and  not  to  sense,  the  knowledge  of  all  intuitive  truths ;  of  all  demon 
strative  truths,  strictly  so  called ;  of  all  necessary  truths,  which  of  course  are 
eternal  and  immutable  ;  and  of  all  moral  truths.  Even  when  these  truths  lie 
beyond  the  reach  of  our  reason  to  discover,  and  are  testified  to  us  through  the 
senses,  it  is  by  the  reason,  they  say,  that  we  are  able  to  apprehend  them. 
This  philosophy,  as  distinguished  from  that  of  Locke  and  his  followers,  is 
what  is  commonly  meant  by  TRANSCENDENTALISM. 

This  system  is  evidently  embarrassed  with  one  very  serious  difficulty. 
How  shall  the  philosopher  distinguish  between  the  ideas  of  the  reason,  which 
are  the  same  in  all,  and  necessarily  true,  and  the  decisions  of  his  own  indi- 


APPENDIX.  473 

vidual  understanding,  which  rest  ultimately  on  sense,  and  may  be  erroneous  ? 
For  want  of  an  evidently  correct  and  universally  received  answer  to  this 
question,  Transcendentalists  have  speculated  very  differently  from  each  other, 
and  some  of  them  very  strangely,  and  even  blasphemously.  "  In  our  next 
lecture,  gentlemen,"  said  a  German  professor,  "  we  will  create  God."*  He 
meant,  he  would  show  how  reason  evolves  from  its  own  stores,  the  idea  of 
God ;  leaving  it  in  doubt  whether  God  has  any  objective  existence ;  whether 
he  is  anything  more  than  a  necessary  form  of  thought  for  the  human  mind,  or 
as  Mr.  Emerson  would  say,  the  laws  of  the  universe. 

On  the  other  hand,  Transcendentalism  has  been  closely  connected  with  the 
revival  of  piety  in  Europe.  It  is  the  philosophy  of  Neander,  of  Tholuck,  of 
all  the  orthodox  in  Germany.  In  France,  Cousin  must  be-ranked  in  the  same 
class.  His  "  Psychology,"  translated  by  Professor  Henry,  is  doubtless  far  the 
best  introduction  to  that  philosophy,  accessible  to  the  English  reader.  The 
student  of  this  work,  we  must  remark  by  the  way,  should  read  the  woik  first, 
and  then  the  translator's  introduction. 

Among  the  New  England  Unitarians,  Transcendentalism,  as  we  said  last 
week,  is  making  strange  work.  By  rescuing  moral  truths  from  the  doubtful 
ness  and  outwardness  which  attend  the  testimony  of  the  senses,  and  resting 
their  authority  on  demonstration  and  inward  experience  of  their  truth,  it  gives 
them  the  opportunity,  if  they  will,  to  make  their  religion  more  spiritual.  Such, 
we  believe,  is  the  use  made  of  it  by  Dr.  Walker,  lately  appointed  Professor  of 
Moral  Philosophy  at  Cambridge.  Others  go  off  into  wild  extremes,  like  Mr. 
Emerson:  while  the  greater  part  look  on  with  amazement,  and  know  not 
what  to  think  of  it. 

We  must  stop ;  though  justice  to  several  English  and  American  writers, 
whom  we  have  not  mentioned,  may  compel  us  to  resume  the  subject  at  another 
time. 


Editorial  Article  of  the  New  York  Observer,  Saturday,  Nov.  24,  1838. 
TRANSCENDENTALISM:. 

Plato,  as  quaintly  translated  by  Cudworth,  describes  two  classes  of  philoso 
phers,  which,  he  says,  have  always  been  in  the  world.  Of  the  first,  he 
says : — 

11  These  pull  all  things  down  from  heaven  and  the  invisible  region  with 
their  hands  to  the  earth,  laying  hold  of  rocks  and  oaks ;  and  when  they  grasp 
all  these  hard  and  gross  things,  they  confidently  affirm  that  that  only  is  sub 
stance  which  they  can  feel,  and  will  resist  the  touch;  and  they  conclude  that 
body  and  substance  are  one  and  the  same  thing ;  and  if  any  one  chance  to 
speak  to  them  of  that  which  is  not  body,  they  will  altogether  despise  him, 
and  not  hear  a  word  more  from  him. 

"  The  adversaries  of  these  Corporealists  do  cautiously  and  piously  assault 
them  from  the  invisible  region,  fetching  all  things  from  above  by  way  of  de 
scent,  and  by  the  strength  of  reason  convincing  that  certain  intelligible  and 
incorporeal  forms  are  the  true  or  first  substance,  and  not  sensible  things. 

"  But  between  these  two  there  hath  always  been  a  great  war  and  conten 
tion." 

Here  we  see,  plainly  enough,  the  lineaments  of  the  two  great  schools  of 
philosophy,  which,  under  various  modifications,  have  prevailed,  either  alter- 

*  Fichte. 


474  APPENDIX. 

nately  or  as  cotemporary  rivals,  to  the  present  time ;  the  one  building  every 
thing  ultimately  on  sensation,  the  other  on  reason. 

The  first  is,  by  its  opponents,  called,  "  the  sensuous  philosophy."  The 
word  sensuous,  however,  in  this  connection,  is  to  be  carefully  distinguished 
from  sensual.  It  is  intended  only  to  point  out  the  philosophy  which  rests  ulti 
mately  on  sense  and  sensation.  Whether  its  reliance  on  sense  has  a  tendency 
to  make  its  votaries  sensual,  is  a  fair  question  for  investigation.  This  philo 
sophy,  before  the  Christian  era,  was  closely  associated  with  atheism,  with  the 
denial  of  the  existence  of  any  spiritual  substance,  and  of  course,  with  the 
denial  of  our  immortality.  It  knew  nothing  of  any  good,  except  agreeable 
sensations  and  emotions,  and  the  means  of  procuring  them;  for  sense  cannot 
inform  us  of  any  other  good.  Even  down  to  the  time  of  Paley's  Moral 
Philosophy,  with  all  the  aid  it  has  borrowed  from  the  gospel,  it  can  make  no 
thing  of  moral  obligation,  but  "a  violent  motive,  resulting  from  the  command 
of  another  ;"  it  can  discover  nothing  in  virtue,  but  "  doing  good  to  man,  in 
obedience  to  the  will  of  God,  for  the  sake  of  everlasting  happiness."  It  is 
essentially  selfish  ;  recognizing  no  possibility  that  a  man  should  act,  unless  he 
act  for  pay.  Under  its  teaching,  all  morality  is  reduced  to  a  system  of  well 
contrived  rules,  to  be  observed  by  every  man  for  the  promotion  of  his  own 
interest. 

Of  the  other  philosophy,  which  is  sometimes  called  Platonic,  sometimes 
"  spiritual,"  and  in  its  modern  German  form,  "  transcendental,"  we  noticed  a 
serious  defect  last  week;  the  want  of  an  infallible  criterion,  by  which  to  dis 
tinguish  the  decisions  of  reason  from  our  own  fancies  and  mistakes.  An 
ciently,  this  defect  embarrassed  it  in  all  its  departments,  except  the  fine  arts, 
where  the  effect  produced  by  a  statue,  painting  or  poem  supplied  the  desired 
criterion.  In  its  application  to  the  physical  sciences,  Bacon  supplied  the  de 
fect  ;  but  not  without  borrowing  so  largely  from  the  sensuous  school,  that  they 
have  usually  claimed  him  as  one  of  themselves.  In  fact,  he  is  of  neither 
school,  but  uses  what  is  true  of  both.  His  laws  of  nature,  his  curves,  his 
regularly  increasing  or  decreasing  forces,  and  the  like,  are  matters  of  which 
the  Censes  never  could  inform  us.  Our  ideas  of  them  are  purely  the  creation 
of  mind — of  the  reason.  This,  in  relation  to  geometry,  Dugald  Stewart  has 
proved  at  length,  in  the  second  volume  of  his  Philosophy.  But  for  matters  of 
fact,  Bacon  sends  us  to  the  senses.  He  bids  us  learn  of  them,  whether  a  cer 
tain  curve,  which  the  reason  has  investigated,  is  actually  the  orbit  of  the 
moon.  If  Davy  suspects,  from  analogy,  that  the  alkalies  are  metallic  oxydes, 
Bacon  tells  him  that  that  is  a  question  of  fact,  of  which  the  senses,  and  not 
reason,  are  the  proper  witnesses ;  and  bids  him  decompose  an  alkali,  and 
show  the  metal  in  a  visible  mass  and  the  oxygen  in  a  receiver,  before  setting 
down  his  guess  among  the  doctrines  of  philosophy.  Successful  investigations 
under  the  guidance  of  Bacon  are  the  result  of  observations  arid  experiments, 
made,  not  at  hap-hazard,  but  for  the  deliberate  purpose  of  ascertaining 
whether  some  idea  with  which  reason  seems  to  have  furnished  us,  is,  indeed, 
one  of  the  laws  of  nature. 

Whether  such  a  service  can  be  performed  for  theological  science,  is  dispu 
table  ;  that  it  has  not,  is  certain.  The  German  Transcendental ist,  besides 
certain  liabilities  to  error  that  grow  out  of  the  nature  of  the  subject  and  the 
corruption  of  the  heart,  is  exposed  to  lose  his  labor  by  mistaking  speculation 
for  proof,  just  as  were  the  natural  philosophers  before  the  time  of  Bacon. 
Building  everything  on  reason,  they  are  in  danger  of  going  astray  from  facts. 
Reasons  sees  principles,  truths,  but  not  facts.  How  can  you  prove,  by  reason, 
that  the  earth  exists,  or  that  matter  exists  at  all  ?  You  might  as  well  attempt 
to  see  mathematical  truth  with  your  eyes,  as  to  see  matters  of  fact  with  the 


APPENDIX.  475 

reason.  You  are  conscious  of  your  own  existence.  That  implies  the  exist 
ence  of  Him  in  whom  you  have  your  being.  How  can  reason,  unaided, 
evince  the  existence  of  any  other  being?  Hence,  this  school  has  always 
verged  towards  Pantheism. 

The  Eclectic  philosopher  would  avoid  the  evils  and  danger  of  both  these 
schools.  But  what  is  Eclecticism?  Not,  as  some  suppose,  a  patch-work,  made 
up  by  selecting  from  every  philosophy,  such  parts  as  look  well  when  con 
sidered  by  themselves.  The  Eclectic  assumes  that,  from  the  constitution  of 
the  human  mind,  every  system  which  prevails  among  men  must  be  recom 
mended  by  at  least  some  admixture  of  truth,  though,  perhaps,  imperfectly 
understood,  or  grossly  distorted ;  and  therefore,  instead  of  rejecting  any  sys 
tem  in  the  mass,  he  would  gather  out,  and  render  intelligible,  and  scientifi 
cally  arrange,  the  truth  that  it  contains.  Cousin,  we  believe,  and  those  who 
think  with  him  in  France,  consider  themselves  as  Eclectics. 

As  might  be  expected,  truly  pious  theologians  have  ever  been  driven  to 
something  like  Eclecticism.  The  great  Edwards  is  a  remarkable  example. 
He,  it  is  well  known,  was  a  devoted  student  of  Locke;  and  yet,  in  his  Treat 
ise  on  the  Affections,  he  is  obliged  to  admit  and  maintain  that  the  regenerate 
do  have  ideas,  such  as  they  could  not  possibly  have,  if  Locke's  philosophy 
were  the  whole  truth.  He  says,  Part  iii.  sec.  1,  that,  "  through  the  saving  in 
fluences  of  the  Spirit  of  God,  there  is  a  new  inward  perception  or  sensation 
in  their  minds,  entirely  different  in  its  nature  and  kind  from  anything  that 
their  minds  were  ever  the  subjects  of  before  they  were  sanctified ;"  "  some 
thing  that  is  new,  not  only  in  degree  and  circumstances,  but  in  its  whole  na 
ture  ;  and  that  which  could  be  produced  by  no  exalting,  varying  or  com 
pounding  of  what  was  there  before,  or  by  adding  anything  of  the  like  kind  j 
which  no  improvement,  composition  or  management  of  what  it  was  before 
could  produce."  He  calls  it  "a  new  simple  idea,"  and  "a  new  principle." 
In  section  4,  he  tells  us  what  that  "  new  simple  idea"  is;  that  it  is  "the  su 
preme  beauty  and  excellence  of  the  nature  of  divine  things,  as  they  are  in 
themselves."  In  subsequent  parts  of  his  treatise,  he  shows  how  correct  ideas 
of  God,  of  holiness  and  sin,  of  redemption,  and  of  all  divine  truth,  grow  out 
of  this  new  spiritual  perception.  Euclid  himself  is  not  more  scientific,  in 
following  out  his  idea  of  mathematical  equality.  He  maintains  that  the  re 
generate  have  an  "  intuitive"  knowledge  of  the  truth  and  divine  excellency 
of  the  gospel ;  so  that  they  are  not  merely  strong  in  the  opinion  that  the  gos- 
pel  is  true,  but  they  have  seen  the  truth  of  it,  and  are  qualified,  not  merely  to 
argue,  but  to  testify  in  its  favor. 

All  this  spiritual  knowledge,  according  to  Ed  wards,  does  not  rest  ultimately 
on  the  testimony  of  the  senses,  but  has  its  origin  in  that  "new  simple  idea," 
which  characterizes  the  regenerate ;  which  is  apprehended,  as  he  expressly 
says,  not  by  any  new  faculty,  but  by  a  new  use  of  faculties  which  the  man 
had  before ;  as  the  Transcendental  poet,  Wordsworth,  tells  the  proud  man, 
who  "can  feel  contempt  for  anything  that  lives,"  that  he  "hath  faculties, 
which  he  hath  never  used."  Regeneration,  spiritual  understanding,  "  the  life 
of  God  in  the  soul,"  imply  mental  phenomena,  which,  according  to  Locke, 
are  impossible. 

The  first  outbreak  of  the  Transcendental  controversy  among  the  Massa 
chusetts  Unitarians  was  caused  by  an  article  in  the  Christian  Examiner,  from 
the  pen  of  Rev.  Mr.  Ripley,  of  Boston,  in  which  he  maintained  that  faith  in 
the  essential  doctrines  of  Christianity  need  not  rest  on  historical  testimony 
concerning  the  miracles  by  which  it  was  attested.  For  this,  he  was  de 
nounced  as  virtually  a  Deist.  It  is  remarkable  that  in  this  discussion,  Mr. 
Ripley  quoted  largely  from  these  very  reasonings  of  Edwards;  as  well  a* 


476  APPENDIX. 

from  other  writers  of  undoubted  orthodoxy,  who  maintain  that  the  unlearned 
Christian  may  know  the  truth,  by  his  personal  experience  of  it,  and  acquaint 
ance  with  it,  though  ignorant  of  historical  proof  of  the  authenticity  of  the 
Scriptures.  Here  it  became  evident  that  these  Transcendentalists  would 
change  the  character  of  Unitarianism  5  that  they  would  infuse  heart  and  soul 
and  life  into  it;  but  where  they  would  go — whether  upward  to  Evangelical 
piety,  or  off  into  poetry,  sentimentalism,  and,  perhaps,  fanaticism,  was  doubt 
ful,  and  remains  doubtful  still.  Probably  some  will  go  in  all  those  directions ; 
but  we  fear,  the  best  road  will  contain  the  smallest  company. 


APPENDIX  D.  TO  CHAPTER  IX. 

Religious  Literature  of  Germany  is  the  title  of  an  article  of  the  Foreign 
Quarterly  Review.  The  following  are  the  opening  paragraphs  : — 

"  By  the  favor  of  more  than  twenty  years'  peace,  and  with  the  assistance 
of  an  understanding  which,  by  its  general  soundness  and  vigor,  more  than 
compensates  for  what  it  may  want  in  profundity  and  comprehensiveness,  we 
English  have  now  arrived  at  a  pretty  satisfactory  solution  of  the  common  pro 
blems  of  German  literature.  Many  things  are  known  now — and  form,  indeed, 
part  of  the  common  atmosphere  in  which  cultivated  minds  breathe — that, 
twenty  years  ago,  were  either  altogether  unknown,  or  known  only  to  those 
few  '  extravagant  and  loving  spirits'  that  will  at  all  times  make  a  conscience 
of  going  for  weal  or  wo  into  every  region  where  no  other  person  ever  went 
before  them.  We  know  now  almost  universally  that  Immanuel  Kant  is  not 
a  mystic,  and  that  Goethe  is  not  a  whimpering  sentimentalist,  as  little  as  he  is 
a  god.  But  there  remains  behind  those  vulgar  prolegomena  a  wide  un 
bounded  region  of  German  thought,  descending  deep  into  the  abyss  of  meta 
physical  questioning,  and  rising  high  into  those  loftiest  regions  of  religion, 
where  we  are  invited  to  drink  of  the  waters  of  the  river  of  life,  that  flow 
from  beneath  the  throne  of  the  Everlasting.  This  region  is  as  yet  untrodden 
by  the  most  of  us ;  and,  so  far  as  we  can  judge  from  the  echoes  of  strange 
Babylonic  voices,  and  the  dark  shadows  of  gigantic  distortions  that  have 
thence  wandered  over  to  our  coasts,  there  seems  to  be  no  sufficient  reason 
\vhy  we  should  disturb  the  peace  of  our  souls  by  launching  forth  into  this 
new  voyage  of  perilous  discovery.  So  far  as  we,  from  our  point  of  view,  can 
perceive,  German  theology,  or  German  metaphysics,  (for  they  are  at  bottom 
the  same,)  is  a  waste-howling  wilderness  of  hopeless  skepticism — an  abatos 
eremia  more  wild  and  wintery  than  that  in  which  Prometheus  was  rock- 
bound  by  the  anger  of  Jove — a  province  of  Cimmerian  darkness,  where  there 
is  only  light  enough  to  see  long  dismal  rows  of  cold  intellectual  faces  prying 
curiously  into  the  dissected  body  of  the  dead  Beautiful.  Nor  do  we  allow 
ourselves  to  be  deceived  by  the  number  of  wandering  lights  that  ever  and 
anon  perform  strange  evolutions  through  that  atmosphere  of  darkness.  We 
see  that  these  luminaries  have  no  healthy  permanency  like  the  sun ;  and  we 
know  that  the  fields  do  not  grow  green  beneath  them.  And  if,  at  any  time, 
some  calm  dignified  shape  (a  Novalis,  perhaps),  with  the  carriage  of  an 
angel,  sails  solemnly  through  the  inextricable  tumult  of  vain  opinions,  we  are 
more  confounded  than  consoled  by  such  apparition ;  we  have  not  been  accus 
tomed  to  deal  with  religious  phantasmagoria ;  at  all  events,  a  little  floating 
poetry  in  the  air  will  not  compensate  for  the  cold  barren  reality  of  the 
earth ;  the  Englishman  as  yet  sees  nothing  that  can  invite  him  to  the  serious 
study  of  German  theology. 


APPENDIX.  477 

"There  can  be  no  doubt  that  the  Englishman,  in  thus  concluding,  is  acting  in 
perfect  conformity  with  that  sound  sense  for  which,  above  all  the  races  of  men, 
he  is  so  remarkable.  A  genuine  Englishman  (we  speak  not  of  the  few  who 
delight  in  playing  mountebank  tricks)  will  not  embark  on  a  journey  merely  for 
the  pleasures  of  sailing  in  a  balloon;  he  must  know  where  he  is  going,  and 
he  must  also  know  that  the  vehicle  in  which  he  travels  will  convey  him. 
thither  in  the  most  direct  and  expeditious  manner.  Now,  what  does  German 
theology  offer  to  us  by  way  of  useful  helps  and  aids  in  the  perplexed  journey 
that  we  all  travel  to  the  grave  and  to  the  undiscovered  country  beyond  if? 
Has  Immanuel  Kant,  with  his  searching  analysis  and  his  comprehensive 
grasp;  has  Herder,  with  his  restless  spirit  of  investigation,  and  his  fiery  heart, 
that  literally  raged  with  humanity ;  has  Schleiermacher,  with  all  his  pure 
Platonism  of  sentiment ;  has  Gesenius,  with  all  his  Hebrew  ;  or  Wegscheiden, 
with  all  his  reason,  been  able  more  clearly  than  we  do  to  see  through  that 
rent  in  the  coffin  of  mortality,  beyond  which  the  star  of  the  Christian's  hope 
shines  benignly  ?  Not  they.  On  the  contrary,  the  tendency  of  all  their  doings 
seems  to  have  been  to  undermine  the  foundations  of  Christianity,  and  to  leave 
us  (with  the  exception  of  some  smooth  pious  phraseology)  exactlyv where  we 
were  when  Tacitus  denounced  the  'exitiabilis  superstitio1  and  the  '•odium  hu- 
mani  generis'  that  distinguished  the  vulgar  sect  of  the  Nazarenes.  The  fact  is 
undeniable.  The  Germans  are  not  an  irreligious  nation — far  from  it ;  but 
they  certainly  have  succeeded  most  effectually,  so  far  as  their  own  national 
belief  is  concerned,  in  evaporating  all  that  is  solid  and  substantial  in  Christi 
anity,  in  taking  away  from  beneath  our  feet  all  that  is  real  and  historical  in 
the  faith  of  centuries.  If  to  the  English  theologian  the  life  of  Christ  is  some 
times  little  better  than  a  mechanical  series  of  miracles,  here  at  least  we  have 
a  frame- work  into  which  a  soul  may  be  breathed ;  but  to  the  German  theolo 
gian  there  is  no  life  of  Christ  at  all ;  the  whole  is  mythus,  allegory,  epos ;  the 
miracles,  if  they  are  not  old  wives'  tales,  are  mere  magnified  and  glorified 
pictures  of  Nature's  most  common-places;  and  to  be  a  Christian  is  merely  to 
live  in  the  God  begotten  idea  of  moral  perfectionation,  of  which  the  name  of 
the  Messiah  doubtless  is  the  enduring  type,  but  the  name  of  Plato  as  much  so. 
The  Titanic  architecture  of  the  Old  Testament  evaporates  by  a  like  process 
into  smoke.  As  Wolf  taught  a  new  catechism  to  the  scholars  of  his  country, 
so  that  we  now  hear  no  longer  of  Homer's  Iliad  and  Homer's  Odyssey,  but 
only  of  the  Homeric  ballads,  so  he  also  seems  to  have  lent  a  watchword  to 
the  theologians,  and  we  hear  no  more  of  the  books  of  Moses,  but  merely  of 
the  Mosaic  legend,  the  Mosaic  mythus,  the  Mosaic  epos;  and  that  which  was 
late  a  mystical  volume,  out  of  whose  pages  flowed  fountains  of  living  water, 
has  now  become  an  ancient  scroll  for  the  curious  to  read,  a  Hebrew  parch 
ment  for  the  learned  to  comment  on.  The  finger  of  God  moves  no  longer 
visibly,  writing  bright  hopes  upon  the  walls  of  our  prison-house;  like  Homer's 
ghosts  (eidola  amaura)  we  wander  melancholy,  dark  amid  darkness ;  and  we 
hear  nothing  but  confounding  voices  of  foolish  opinions  and  infantine  babblings, 
of  which,  whether  coming  from  ourselves  or  others,  we  had  long  since  been 
sick  even  unto  the  death.  The  anchor  of  certainty  has  again  been  torn  from  the 
intellect  of  man ;  our  brightest  hopes,  which  Christianity  made  to  shine  like 
the  stars  in  the  firmament,  are  now  a  second  time  sent  to  float  as  loose  bub 
bles  on  the  ocean  of  bottomless  speculation ;  we  cannot  even  look  devoutly 
for  the  second  advent  of  Christ  to  convince  us  that  there  ever  was  a  first ;  for 
Immanuel  Kant  has  made  every  man  his  own  legislator,  and  the  Categorical 
Imperative  will  not  submit  to  be  taught  even  by  the  Epiphany  of  a  God. 

"  Why,  therefore,  it  will  be  asked,  do  we  tempt  God,  by  opening  up  his 
shoreless  sea  of  doubt,  and  throwing  the  helmless  barks  of  human  souls 


478  APPENDIX. 

abroad  upon  its  waves?  Are  we  envious  of  the  fate  of  Pliny,  and  desirous 
to  throw  away  the  precious  gift  of  existence,  for  the  idle  curiosity  of  contem 
plating  with  nearer  gaze  this  smoke  and  fire  of  a  burning  mountain  ?  If  this 
analogy  were  perfectly  appropriate  in  all  points,  the  course  of  every  wise 
man  would  be  clear — to  keep  out  of  harm's  way.  But  if  God  has  thrown 
the  dark  valley  of  the  shadow  of  death  in  the  direct  road  between  us  and 
heaven,  it  is  not  for  us  to  turn  aside  from  that  perilous  passage,  because  the 
light  on  the  road  which  we  have  hitherto  traveled  has  been  uniformly  plea 
sant  and  comfortable  to  the  eye ;  and  most  certain  is  it  that  doubt  and  per' 
pkxity  are  the  portals  of  faith,  as  sorrow  and  anguish  of  soul  and  honest  self- 
reproach  are  the  beginnings  of  sanctiftcation.  True  it  is  that  human  nature, 
in  its  present  frail  estate,  can  scarcely  afford  to  lose  the  glorious  hope  of  im 
mortality  for  any  thing  that  Kant,  or  Hegel,  or  Goethe,  has  to  offer  in  its  stead ; 
but  still  less  can  human  nature  afford  to  lose  truth,  and  the  love  of  truth,  and 
the  search  of  truth,  and  the  constraining  power  of  reality.  What  avails  it  to 
me  that  I  hold  the  sceptre  of  the  world  in  my  hand,  if  all  the  while  I  am 
haunted  with  the  suspicion  that  it  is  the  mere  bauble  of  a  child  ?  And  thus, 
in  religious,  matters  especially.it  is  of  the  utmost  importance  that  what  a  man 
believes  he  believes  with  his  whole  soul;  for  certainly  not  so  much  upon  the 
quantity  as  upon  the  quality  of  his  faith  does  his  salvation  depend.  If  a  man, 
therefore,  has  any  doubts  upon  religious  subjects,  and  German  theology  comes 
in  his  way,  it  is  in  vain  for  him  to  say  to  his  difficulties,  get  ye  gone  for  this 
time,  when  I  have  a  more  convenient  season  I  will  call  for  you.  If  the  faith 
in  which  the  religious  man  seeks  to  live  is  to  be  anything  better  than  a  float 
ing  cloud,  he  must  examine  and  question ;  and  no  one  ever  examined  and 
questioned  to  any  purpose  who  had  not  first  learned  to  doubt.  If  our  religion 
is  to  be  any  thing  better  than  a  mere  garment,  a  mere  piece  of  heraldic  bla 
zonry,  it  is  of  essential  importance  that  we  should  know  exactly  where  we  are. 
If  there  be  any  suspicions  about  the  matter,  let  us  make  minute  inquiry  whe 
ther  it  be  mid-day  or  mid-night,  or  merely  the '  morning  rednesse'  of  a  day  that 
shall  be.  And  if  the  devil  be  abroad  'any  where,  let  us,  by  all  means,  see 
him  :  for  the  prince  of  the  power  of  the  air'  works  ever  most  dangerously  in 
the  dark." 

APPENDIX  F.  TO  CHAPTER  IX. 

LETTER  OF  THE  LATE  KEV.  PROFESSOR  WARE. 

For  the  Watchman. 

NEW  SCHOOL  IX  LITERATURE  AKD  RELIGION. 

Mr.  EDITOR — The  following  remarks,  from  the  Daily  Advertiser  and  Patriot, 
are  so  just  and  seasonable,  that  they  are  deemed  worthy  of  an  insertion  in 
your  paper.  Coming,  as  they  do,  from  a  distinguished  Professor  in  Harvard 
University,  Professor  Ware,  they  may  prove  as  interesting  to  the  generality  of 
your  readers  as  they  have  to  A  SUBSCRIBER. 

"  To  Editor  of  Boston  Daily  Advertiser." 

There  is  a  strange  state  of  things  existing  about  us  in  the  literary  and  reli 
gious  world,  of  which  none  of  our  larger  periodicals  have  yet  taken  notice.  It 
is  the  result  of  that  restless  craving  for  notoriety  and  excitement,  which,  in  one 
way  or  another,  is  keeping  our  community  in  a  perpetual  stir.  It  has  shown 
itself,  we  think,  particularly  since  that  foolish  woman.  Miss  Martineau,  was 


APPENDIX.  479 

among  us  and  stimulated  the  vanity  of  her  flatterers  by  loading  them  in  return 
with  the  copper  coin  of  her  praise,  which  they  easily  believed  was  as  good  as 
gold.  She  was  accustomed  to  talk  about  her  mission,  as  if  she  were  a  special 
dispensation  of  Providence,  and  they  too  thought  that  they  must  all  have  their 
missions,  and  began  to  "  vaticinate,"  as  one  of  their  number  has  expressed  it. 
But  though  her  genial  warmth  may  have  caused  the  new  school  to  bud  and 
bloom,  it  was  not  planted  by  her.  It  owes  its  origin  in  part  to  ill  understood 
notions,  obtained  by  blundering  through  the  crabbed  and  disgusting  obscurity 
of  some  of  the  worst  German  speculatists,  which  notions,  however,  have  been 
received  by  most  of  its  disciples  at  second  hand,  through  an  interpreter.  The 
atheist  Shelley  has  been  quoted  and  commended  in  a  professedly  religious 
work,  called  the  Western  Messenger ;  but  he  is  not,  we  conceive,  to  be  reckoned 
among  the  patriarchs  of  this  sect.  But  this  honor  is  due  to  that  hasher  up  of 
German  metaphysics,  the  Frenchman,  Cousin ;  and,  of  late,  that  hyper-Ger 
manized  Englishman,  Carlyle,  has  been  the  great  object  of  admiration  and 
model  of  style.  Cousin  and  Carlyle  indeed  seem  to  have  been  transformed 
into  idols  to  be  publicly  worshipped,  the  former  for  his  philosophy,  and  the 
latter  both  for  his  philosophy  and  fine  writing;  while  the  veiled  image  of  the 
German  pantheist,  Schleiermacher,  is  kept  in  the  sanctuary. 

The  characteristics  of  this  school  are  the  most  extraordinary  assumption 
united  with  great  ignorance  and  incapacity  for  reasoning.  There  is,  indeed,  a 
general  tendency  among  its  disciples  to  disavow  learning  and  reasoning  as 
sources  of  their  higher  knowledge.  The  mind  must  be  its  own  unassisted 
teacher.  It  discerns  transcendental  truths  by  immediate  vision,  and  these 
truths  can  no  more  be  communicated  to  another  by  addressing  his  under 
standing,  than  the  power  of  clairvoyance  can  be  given  to  one  not  mag 
netized.  They  announce  themselves  as  the  prophets  and  priests  of  a  new 
future,  in  which  all  is  to  be  changed,  all  old  opinions  done  away,  and  all  pre 
sent  forms  of  society  abolished.  But  by  what  process  this  joyful  revolution 
is  to  be  effected  we  are  not  told ;  nor  how  human  happiness  and  virtue  are  to 
be  saved  from  the  universal  wreck,  and  regenerated  in  their  Medea's  caldron. 
There  are  great  truths  with  which  they  are  laboring,  but  they  are  unutterable 
in  words  to  be  understood  by  common  minds.  To  such  minds  they  seem  non 
sense,  oracles  as  obscure  as  those  of  Delphi. 

The  rejection  of  reasoning  is  accompanied  with  an  equal  contempt  for  good 
taste.  All  modesty  is  laid  aside.  The  writer  of  an  article  for  an  obscure 
periodical,  or  a  religious  newspaper,  assumes  a  tone  as  if  he  were  one  of  the 
chosen  enlighteners  of  a  dark  age.  He  continually  obtrudes  himself  upon  his 
reader,  and  announces  his  own  convictions,  as  if  from  their  having  that  cha 
racter  they  were  necessarily  indisputable.  He  floats  about  magnificently  on 
bladders,  which  he  would  have  it  believed  are  swelling  with  ideas.  Common 
thoughts,  sometimes  true,  oftener  false,  and  "  Neutral  nonsense,  neither  false 
nor  true,"  are  exaggerated,  and  twisted  out  of  shape  and  forced  into  strange 
connections,  to  make  them  look  like  some  grand  and  new  conception.  To 
produce  a  more  striking  effect  our  common  language  is  abused ;  antic  tricks 
are  played  with  it;  inversions,  exclamations,  anomalous  combinations  of 
words,  unmeaning,  but  coarse  and  violent,  metaphors  abound,  and  withal  a 
strong  infusion  of  German  barbarisms.  Such  is  the  style  of  Carlyle,  a  writer 
of  some  talent;  for  his  great  deficiency  is  not  in  this  respect,  it  is  in  good 
sense,  good  taste,  and  soundness  of  principle;  but  a  writer,  who,  through  his 
talents  such  as  they  are,  through  that  sort  of  buffoonery  and  affectation  of 
manner  which  throws  the  reader  off  his  guard,  through  the  indisputable 
novelty  of  his  way  of  writing,  and  through  a  somewhat  too  prevalent  taste 
among  us  for  an  over  excited  and  convulsionary  style,  which  we  mistake  for 


480  APPENDIX. 

eloquence,  has  obtained  a  degree  of  fame  in  this  country,  very  disproportioned 
to  what  he  enjoys  at  home,  out  of  the  Westminster  Review.  Carlyle,  how 
ever,  as  an  original,  might  be  tolerated,  if  one  could  forget  his  admirers  and 
imitators. 

The  state  of  things  described  might  seem  a  matter  of  no  great  concern,  a 
mere  insurrection  of  folly,  a  sort  of  Jack  Cade  rebellion,  which  in  the  nature  of 
things  must  soon  be  put  down,  if  those  engaged  in  it  were  not  gathering  con 
fidence  from  neglect,  and  had  not  proceeded  to  attack  principles  which  are 
the  foundation  of  human  society  and  human  happiness.  Silly  women,  it  has 
been  said,  and  silly  young  men,  it  is  to  be  feared,  have  been  drawn  away  from 
their  Christian  faith  if  not  divorced  from  all  that  can  properly  be  called  reli 
gion.  The  evil  is  becoming  for  the  time  disastrous  and  alarming  •  and  of  this 
fact  there  could  hardly  be  more  extraordinary  and  ill-boding  evidence  than  is 
afforded  by  a  publication,  which  has  appeared,  entitled  an  "  Address,  delivered 
before  the  Senior  class  in  Divinity  College,  Cambridge,"  upon  the  occasion  of 
that  class  taking  leave  of  the  institution.  "  By  Ralph  Waldo  Emerson." 

It  is  not  necessary  to  remark  particularly  on  this  composition.  It  will  be 
sufficient  to  state  generally,  that  the  author  professes  to  reject  all  belief  in 
Christianity  as  a  revelation,  that  he  makes  a  general  attack  upon  the  clergy,  on 
the  ground  that  they  preach  what  he  calls  "  Historical  Christianity,"  and  that 
if  he  believe  in  God  in  the  proper  sense  of  the  term,  which  one  passage  might 
have  led  his  hearers  to  suppose,  his  language  elsewhere  is  very  ill  judged  and 
indecorous.  But  what  his  opinions  may  be  is  a  matter  of  minor  concern;  the 
main  question  is  how  it  has  happened,  that  religion  has  been  insulted  by  the 
delivery  of  these  opinions  in  the  Chapel  of  the  Divinity  College  at  Cambridge, 
as  the  last  instruction  which  those  were  to  receive,  who  were  going  forth  from 
it,  bearing  the  name  of  Christian  preachers.  This  is  a  question  in  which  the 
community  is  deeply  interested.  No  one  can  doubt  for  a  moment  of  the  dis 
gust  and  strong  disapprobation  with  which  it  must  have  been  heard  by  the 
highly  respectable  officers  of  that  institution.  They  must  have  felt  it  not  only 
as  an  insult  to  religion,  but  as  personal  insult  to  themselves.  But  this  renders 
the  fact  of  its  having  been  so  delivered  only  the  more  remarkable.  We  can 
proceed  but  a  step  in  accounting  for  it.  The  preacher  was  invited  to  occupy 
the  place  he  did,  not  by  the  officers  of  the  Divinity  College,  but  by  the  mem 
bers  of  the  graduating  class.  These  gentlemen,  therefore,  have  become  acces 
sories,  perhaps  innocent  accessories,  to  the  commission  of  a  great  offence;  and 
the  public  must  be  desirous  of  learning  what  exculpation  or  excuse  they  can 
offer. 

It  is  difficult  to  believe  that  they  thought  this  incoherent  rhapsody  a  speci 
men  of  fine  writing,  that  they  listened  with  admiration,  for  instance,  when 
they  were  told  that  the  religious  sentiment  "  is  myrrh,  and  storax,  and  chlorine 
and  rosemary;"  or  that  they  wondered  at  the  profound  views  of  their  present 
teacher,  when  he  announced  to  them  that  "the  new  teacher,"  for  whom  he  is 
looking,  would  "  see  the  identity  of  the  law  of  gravitation  with  purity  of  heart ;" 
or  that  they  had  not  some  suspicion  of  inconsistency,  when  a  new  teacher  was 
talked  of  after  it  had  been  declared  to  them,  that  religious  truth  t;  is  an  intui 
tion,"  and  <;  cannot  be  received  at  second  hand." 

But  the  subject  is  to  be  viewed  under  a  far  more  serious  aspect.  The 
words  God,  Religion,  Christianity,  have  a  definite  meaning,  well  understood. 
They  express  conceptions  and  truths  of  unutterable  moment  to  the  present 
and  future  happiness  of  man.  We  well  know  how  shamefully  they  have 
been  abused  in  modern  times  by  infidels  and  pantheists;  but  their  meaning 
remains  the  same ;  the  truths  which  they  express  are  unchanged  and  un 
changeable.  The  community  know  what  they  require  when  they  ask  for  a 


APPENDIX.  481 

Christian  teacher;  and  should  any  one  approving  the  doctrines  of  this  discourse 
assume  that  character,  he  would  deceive  his  hearers ;  he  would  be  guilty  of  a 
practical  falsehood  for  the  most  paltry  of  temptations ;  he  would  consent  to 
live,  a  lie,  for  the  sake  of  being  maintained  by  those  whom  he  had  cheated. 
It  is  not,  however,  to  be  supposed  that  his  vanity  would  suffer  him  long  to 
keep  his  philosophy  wholly  to  himself.  This  would  break  out  in  obscure 
intimations,  ambiguous  words,  and  false  and  mischievous  speculations.  But 
should  such  preachers  abound,  and  grow  confident  in  their  folly,  we  can 
hardly  over-estimate  the  disastrous  effects  upon  the  religious  and  moral  state 
of  the  community. 


APPENDIX  F.  TO  CHAPTER  IX. 

THE  SENTIMENTS  OF  DR.  CHANNING  AT  THE  CLOSE  OF  HIS  LIFE. 

The  whole  passage  from  which  these  quotations  have  been  made  is  so 
important  that  the  reader  will  doubtless  be  gratified  to  read  it  entire. 

It  is  found  in  an  article  in  the  "Present,"  edited  by  W.  H.  Channing,  for 
November,  1843,  on  pages  90  and  91,  and  reads  as  follows: 

"In  paying  this  tribute  to  the  moral  worth,  and  a  certain  religious  fidelity 
to  duty,  which  have  illustrated  the  lives  of  many  Unitarians,  I  must  in  sin 
cerity  add,  that  these  manifestations  have  generally  been  made  in  those  happy 
temperaments  which  involve  no  great  temptations  to  the  evils  of  which  they 
were  innocent,  and  where  the  depth  and  energy  of  human  passions  have  not 
been  called  forth.  In  looking  over  the  biographies  of  Unitarian  saints,  do  we 
not  find  them  the  gentle  beings,  the  flowers  of  humanity,  rather  than  those 
master  spirits  whose  lives  are  to  themselves  a  mystery,  not  to  be  solved  by 
analogies  of  nature  and  art,  and  whose  destiny  it  is  to  mould  the  ages  in 
which  they  live,  and  commence  new  eras  in  the  life  of  humanity,  either  by 
great  crimes  or  great  reforms.  A  certain  feeble  and  sometimes  a  dilettante 
air  pervades  the  purest  of  these  imitators  of  Jesus  of  Nazareth,  who,  in  a 
majority  of  cases,  die  young.  Why  do  I  feel  that  a  MAN  would  rather  be  of 
the  worst  type  of  humanity,  provided  only  he  could  be  energetic  and  original, 
than  the  most  angel-like  form  of  these  beautiful  children  of  Christian  circum 
stance,  who  blooms  to  die  ? 

"  Yet,  I  would  not  seem  ungracious  to  these  fair  forms,  in  which  I  take  de 
light,  as  the  most  beautiful  of  the  beauties  of  nature.  I  have  in  my  thoughts 
one,  perhaps  the  greatest,  who  has  ever  worn  the  name  of  Unitarian.  En 
dowed  by  nature  with  wonderful  sensibility  to  beauty  of  every  kind  and  de 
gree,  and  separated  to  his  profession,  in  early  life,  by  all  the  restraining  cir 
cumstances  of  a  strict  New  England  education,  never  removed  from  the  sur 
veillance  of  a  public,  uncompromising  in  its  requisitions  of  moral  severity 
upon  all  devoted  to  its  religious  interests,  this  good  seed,  well  planted,  under 
good  rains  of  a  certain  sort  of  adversity,  as  well  as  a  fair  proportion  of  sun 
shine,  was  the  fairest,  richest  product  of  the  natural  religion  of  his  age.  By 
means  of  this  religion,  which,  not  without  an  humble  reverence  he  called 
Christian,  he  protested  well  and  nobly  against  the  corruptions  of  the  prevail 
ing  Church  and  strategy,  and  the  dry  technicality  of  the  theological  teaching. 
More  especially  was  he  mighty  against  the  social  evils  which  he  saw  were 
out  of  harmony  with  the  theory  of  government  that  he  all  but  worshiped  ; 
and  which  is  the  growth  of  a  far  higher  theology,  and  a  far  deeper  insight 
into  human  nature's  wants,  than,  with  all  his  fidelity  to  the  law  written  on 
his  heart,  and  all  his  beautiful  talents,  he  appreciated.  But  have  not  you,  as 
well  as  I,  felt  the  note  of  melancholy  that  bases  even  the  triumphant  organ- 
31 


482  APPENDIX. 

flow  of  his  style,  as  from  his  voice  it  ever  resounded  to  the  ear?  The  more 
strictly  spiritual  were  the  subjects  of  his  eloquence,  the  more  was  this  evi 
dent.  But  I  do  not  fail  to  discern  it  on  his  happiest  occasions,  even  when 
Emancipation,  or  the  freedom  of  the  press,  the  interests  of  education,  or  the 
elevation  of  the  poor,  were  his  themes.  Unitarianism  was  not  to  him  a  foun 
tain  of  life.  The  best  he  ever  said  of  it  was,  that  he  hoped  it  was  a  road  to 
the  fountain.  He  never  pretended  that  he  had  learnt  precisely  what  that 
power  is,  which  should  change  the  selfishness  of  the  heart  into  love,  although 
he  asserted  so  eloquently,  that  as  sure  as  God  lives,  such  a  power  Jesus  per 
sonally  possessed ;  and,  under  certain  conditions,  which,  however,  he  did  not 
clearly  define,  all  men  might  gain  it  from  him.  Though  he  seems,  to  those 
who  stand  in  my  position,  to  be  shading  from  men,  by  his  method,  the  light 
which  lighteth  every  man  that  cometh  into  the  world;  yet  it  is  affecting  to 
see  how  careful  he  is  of  the  lantern  which  should  contain  this  light,  and  how 
intensely  conscious  of  the  darkness  that  needs  its  beams.  He  has  done  with 
great  fidelity  an  important  work  in  his  day,  and  did  not  pass  away  without 
giving  many  signs  of  being  intrinsically  superior  to  the  system  which  he  sup 
ported,  one  of  which  was,  that  he  always  declared  it,  if  the  best  he  knew, 
yet  a  very  meagre  and  lifeless  statement  of  the  Christian  religion,  quite  in 
adequate  to  have  stirred  into  existence  the  stormy  chaos  that  Christendom 
has  hitherto  been,  or  manifestly  inadequate  to  make  that  chaos  an  ordered 
world." 

The  appearance  of  the  article  in  "the  Present,"  a  work  edited  by  the 
nephew  of  Dr.  Channing,  and  who  is  to  be  his  biographer,  created  quite  a 
sensation ;  and  the  allusion  to  the  Rev.  Dr.  Channing  was  avowed  by  the 
writer  of  it,  whose  daily  intercourse  with  Dr.  C.  afforded  her  the  best  of  all 
means  of  knowing  the  opinions  of  this  gentleman.  Mrs.  E.  L.  Follen  wrote 
a  review  of  this  article  in  "the  Present,"  for  April,  1844,  pages  398  and  399. 
The  reader  will  find  the  views  presented  in  the  extract  above  made,  justified 
by  the  letter  written  to  J.  Blanco  White,  so  far  as  it  states  the  Rev.  Dr.  Chan- 
ning's  estimate  of  Unitarianism ;  and  from  inquiries  made  of  those  well  ac 
quainted  with  Dr.  C.,  I  have  every  reason  to  believe  the  writer  has  been 
strictly  correct  in  all  she  has  said. 

PETER  SCHLEMIHL. 


From  the  New  York  Observer,  by  the  Editor,  Saturday,  July  4,  1846. 
FOURIERISM:  WOMEN  AND  CHILDREN. 

There  is  something  superlatively  ridiculous  in  the  idea  of  a  Fourierite  dis 
coursing  of  love,  and  prating  upon  the  tendency  of  civilization  to  destroy  that 
passion,  and  the  importance  of  introducing  "the  Association"  system  that 
woman  may  be  independent  and  therefore  able  to  love  as  she  ought.  Matthew 
Henry,  in  his  notes  on  the  creation,  speaking  with  great  beauty  of  God's  tak 
ing  a  rib  of  Adam  to  make  a  wife  for  him,  remarks  that  He  did  not  take  her 
from  his  head  to  overtop  him,  nor  from  his  feet  to  be  trampled  upon,  but  from 
under  his  arm  to  show  that  she  was  to  be  protected,  and  from  near  his  heart 
to  show  that  she  was  to  be  loved.  There  is  poetry  and  truth  of  the  highest 
order  in  this.  And  it  has  been  generally  supposed  that  the  relation  in  which 
woman  by  the  arrangement  of  society  is  placed,  is  wisely  adapted  to  bind 
her  to  him  that  she  may  rejoice  in  finding  her  pleasure  in  that  which  is  her 
duty.  Such  is  the  case  in  all  virtuous  families.  Such  is  the  practical  opera- 


APPENDIX.  483 

tion  of  the  marriage  institution.  See  how  it  works  in  a  manufacturing  town. 
There  large  numbers  of  youth  of  both  sexes  are  engaged  in  factory  labor :  a 
young  woman  stands  ten  or  twelve  hours  a  day  at  a  loom  to  earn  a  living: 
a  young  man  offers  himself  to  her  in  marriage  and  she  chooses  freely  whether 
or  not  to  accept  him :  they  are  married:  he  takes  her  to  a  home  he  has  pro 
vided:  he  toils  the  harder  to  support  his  wife:  she  ministers  to  his  wants, 
solaces  his  hours  of  leisure  with  her  affection,  and  both  are  a  hundred  fold 
happier  in  their  new  relations  than  they  were  before.  The  wife  is  dependent: 
true;  and  who  toils  for  her  the  live-long  day,  arid  spends  his  hard  earnings 
cheerfully  for  her  support?  Who  finds  his  highest  happiness  in  making  his 
wife  happy,  and  has  his  reward  in  the  love  he  receives  in  return?  And  yet 
these  philosophers  of  the  Fourier  school  tell  us  that  this  "  dependency  of  wo 
man  upon  man  for  her  support  is  very  unfavorable  to  a  full  development  of 
love."  "This  beautiful  passion  can  only  exist  where  there  is  liberty,  liberty 
of  the  soul  and  the  body." 

This  doctrine  of  the  Fourierites  is  open  to  two  objections.  First,  it  is  a  lie, 
and  Secondly,  it  is  licentious.  It  is  a  lie  that  the  woman's  present  position  is 
unfavorable  to  love.  It  is  the  very  system  best  calculated  to  develop  and 
strengthen  her  attachment,  to  identify  her  with  her  husband,  so  that  she  feels 
her  happiness  and  his  to  be  bound  indissolubly  together.  Mrs.  Ellis  felt  the 
truth  on  this  point  when  she  defined  a  wife,  a  being  "  to  come  home  to." 
That  tells  the  whole  story  and  touches  the  heart.  And  we  do  not  care  to 
number  on  our  list  of  friends  the  man  who  does  not  respond  to  that  definition 
from  his  inner  soul.  Washington  Irving  had  the  truth  also  in  him  when  he 
drew  the  beautiful  illustration  of  the  vine  which  winds  itself  around  the  rough 
oak,  finding  its  way  into  all  its  rugged  recesses,  and  is  lifted  by  it  into  the  sun 
shine.  But  the  Reformer  Brisbane  saith  : 

"  Pecuniary  dependency  poisons  all  social  relations,  and  causes  to  a  greater  or 
less  extent  the  renouncement  of  liberty,  of  that  liberty  which  is  the  most 
cherished,  the  liberty  of  the  heart  with  its  sympathies  and  affections."  Page 
299. 

Now  what  must  be  the  tendency  of  such  sentiments  in  the  minds  of  young 
men  and  women  ?  It  is  to  licentiousness  by  system.  The  object"  of  this  teach 
ing  is  to  assure  young  men  that  the  domestic  relation  is  unfriendly  to  love; 
that  a  woman  must  have  "  liberty  of  soul  and  liberty  of  body"  or  the  passion 
of  love  cannot  exist.  Observe  that  the  Fourierites  deny  that  this  liberty  is 
enjoyed  in  the  married  state,  and  then  they  deny  that  love  can  exist  without 
this  liberty.  And  this  doctrine  is  industriously  circulated  in  this  community, 
and  in  almost  every  village  in  the  United  States,  and  many  respectable  men 
are  so  blind,  or  are  so  prejudiced  in  favor  of  those  who  are  teaching  these 
corrupting  sentiments,  that  they  wish  we  would  let  the  subject  alone.  But  it 
is  high  time  that  the  true  object  of  Fourierism  were  exposed. 

We  have  said  that  Fourierism,  while  it  assails  the  institution  of  marriage, 
makes  provision  for  the  care  of  children.  Here  we  come  to  a  curious  chapter, 
and  we  promise  rare  entertainment  to  the  reader  who  has  patience  to  follow 
us  a  little  farther.  It  would  gratify  us  to  be  able  to  transfer  to  our  columns 
whole  chapters  of  Mr.  Brisbane  on  the  care  of  children,  but  as  our  limits  for 
bid  us  this  amusement,  we  must  give  an  outline  of  the  plan;  it  will  be  re 
membered  that  the  Fourier  system  is  to  provide  an  immense  mansion  in  the 
country  capable  of  lodging  a  thousand  people  or  more,  who  are  to  eat  at  a 
common  table,  and  the  various  members  of  the  community  are  to  take  turns 
in  doing  the  work,  according  to  their  tastes!  Among  other  arrangements, 
there  are  to  be  large  apartments,  where  the  children  are  to  be  tended  in  a 


484  APPENDIX. 

heap,  being  distributed  in  successive  series  of  rooms,  according  to  their  ages 
and  habits  !  Saith  that  profound  philosopher  Brisbane  as  follows : — 

"  Early  infancy,  which  extends  to  the  age  of  two  years,  comprises  two 
classes  of  children,  which  we  will  call  Sucklings  and  Weaned. 

"  These  two  classes  are  subdivided,  without  distinction  of  sex,  into  three 
divisions,  forming  a  series  of  characters,  as  follows : — 

"The  Quiet  or  Good-natured. 

"  The  Restless  or  Noisy. 

"  The  Turbulent  or  Intractable. 

"  Two  nurseries,  one  for  the  Sucklings,  and  another  for  the  Weaned,  will 
be  necessary;  each  nursery  will  contain  three  rooms,  for  the  three  kinds  of 
characters;  besides,  side-rooms  for  the  Nurses  and  Doctors;  the  latter  will 
visit  the  children  daily,  without  distinction  of  fortune.  The  rooms  occupied 
by  these  three  classes  of  children,  must  be  sufficiently  separated  to  prevent 
the  Turbulent  from  annoying,  with  their  screams,  the  Quiet,  or  even  the  Rest 
less,  who  are  rather  more  manageable." — Page  396. 

But  it  naturally  suggests  itself  to  one  who  ever  knew  anything  of  chil 
dren,  that  such  an  arrangement  as  this  might  tend  to  confusion  and  disorder; 
a  hundred  babies,  specially  selected  for  their  "turbulent,"  "  noisy,"  "restless," 
and  "  intractable"  dispositions,  all  in  one  room,  might  make  a  slight  degree  of 
music  not  so  congenial  to  the  rest  of  the  household,  and  how  does  the  simple 
reader  suppose  Mr.  Nurse  Brisbane  proposes  to  remedy  this  inconvenience  ? 
Why,  it's  the  easiest  thing  in  the  world.  Hear  the  great  philosopher  once 
more: 

"  The  noise  of  infants,  which  is  such  an  annoyance  at  present,  will  be  very 
much  diminished  in  the  nurseries  of  a  Phalanx.  Those  of  the  third  class — 
The  Intractable — will  be  less  turbulent,  less  noisy,  than  are  at  present  the 
other  two  classes,  the  Quiet  and  the  Restless.  What  means  will  be  employed 
to  pacify  them1?  Will  the  passions  of  these  little  creatures  be  changed? 
Most  certainly  not:  they  will  be  fully  developed,  but  diversions  and  amuse 
ments  will  be  procured  for  them  by  placing  them  in  the  company  of  children 
of  sympathetic  characters.  The  most  noisy  will  cease  their  cries,  when  they 
are  placed  with  a  dozen  other  little  creatures,  as  perverse  as  themselves. 
They  will  silence  each  other  by  their  screams,  something  like  those  braga- 
docios,  who  become  perfectly  mild  and  abandon  their  overbearing  conduct, 
when  they  are  in  the  company  of  their  equals."  Page  400. 

Hail !  great  Brisbane,  and  thy  brother  of  the  Tribune,  hail!  We  give  thee 
joy  for  thy  discovery.  The  noisy  children  "will  silence  each  other  by  their 
screams ! !"  "  The  most  noisy  will  cease  their  cries  when  they  are  placed 
with  a  dozen  other  little  creatures  as  perverse  as  themselves."  Strange  that 
this  fact  was  never  thought  of  before:  that  it  was  left  for  the  two  geniuses  of 
our  day  to  make  the  profound  discovery  that  the  excess  of  sound  is  silence, 
and  the  more  crying  children  you  put  together  the  stiller  it  is !  But  this  inef 
fable  nonsense  is  dignified  with  the  name  of  philosophy,  and  the  men  who 
teach  it  are  looked  up  to  as  lights  of  the  age.  And  once  more  writes  our  male 
nurse: 

"  Nature  demands  the  education  of  children  in  masses,  as  well  for  their 
own  good  as  for  the  comfort  of  parents.  In  spite  of  all  that  is  preached  of  the 
sacred  duties  of  Nature,  there  is  not  a  married  couple  who  are  not  more  or 
less  tired  of  the  cares  which  infants  require,  of  the  filthy  and  repugnant  ser 
vices  which  their  weakness  demands." 

But  we  must  now  pass  on  to  children  of  riper  years  to  see  what  Fourierism 
will  do  for  them.  Doubtless  those  who  have  thought  of  this  scheme  of  Asso 
ciation  have  asked  themselves  who  is  to  do  the  dirty  work  of  the  concern,  if 


APPENDIX.  485 

every  one  is  to  do  as  he  or  she  likes?  If  no  one  chooses  to  clean  the  stable, 
who  will  do  it  ?  But  this  difficulty  is  obviated  easily :  the  children  are  to  be 
trained  to  love  filth,  so  that  they  will  delight  to  work  in  it!  Is  it  not  a  beau 
tiful  scheme?  "Attraction"  is  the  law  of  this  new  system,  and  since  no  one 
is  to  be  "forced"  to  perform  any  service, a  class  must  be  trained  who  will  find 
pleasure  in  putridity  and  be  cleansed  and  perfumed  when  they  come  out  of 
it,  so  that  they  shall  not  offend  the  olfactories  of  those  whose  tastes  revolt  at 
menial  services.  Now  we  confess  that  it  is  too  much  to  ask  any  one  to  be 
lieve  this  on  our  simple  assertion  of  it:  and  the  Tribune,  will  doubtless  charge 
us  with  "  shameful  dishonesty"  and  "  forgery"  even  if  we  prove  these  things 
by  full  length  quotations.  But  we  ask  pardon  for  defiling  the  Observer  with 
three  consecutive  pages  of  Brisbane's  Book  on  Association,  in  which  he  de- 
velopes  the  Fourier  plan  of  doing  dirty  work,  confessedly  the  hardest  problem 
in  a  system  where  everybody  is  to  do  only  what  he  likes.  Read 

"  CHAPTER  THIRTY-FOURTH. 

"  COHPOKATIOIf  OF  THE  LITTLE  HORDES. 

"  Repugnant,  disgusting,  and  degrading  occupations  are,  in  civilization,  over 
come  by  pay ;  but  in  an  order  of  things  in  which  free  and  attractive  co-opera 
tion  will  be  an  essential  character  of  the  social  mechanism,  they  must  be  sur 
mounted  by  attraction. 

"  The  whole  system  of  Attractive  Industry  would  fall  prostrate,  if  means 
were  not  found  of  connecting  powerful  incentives  with  the  execution  of  all 
disgusting  branches  of  work,  the  performance  of  which  can  at  present,  as  we 
remarked,  only  be  procured  by  money. 

"If  we  succeed  in  connecting  powerful  stimulants  with  the  performance  of 
filthy  functions,  which  are  now  degrading,  and  secure  their  execution  by  at 
traction,  success  will  be  the  more  certain  with  all  those  occupations,  which, 
without  being  agreeable,  are  supportable. 

"  To  attain  this  end,  it  will  be  necessary  to  organize  a  Corporation  or  Band 
of  children,  who,  for  the  maintenance  of  SOCIAL  UNITY,  will  take  upon  them 
selves  the  performance  of  all  filthy  branches  of  work,  and  communicate  by 
their  devotion  a  respect  to  unclean  and  repugnant  occupations,  which  in 
turn  will  give  a  lustre  to  all  works  of  minor  attraction,  such  as  ploughing. 

"  If  repugnance  or  disgust  should  discredit  any  branch  of  industry,  the  series 
devoted  to  it,  would,  as  a  consequence,  become  abased,  and  its  members  con 
sidered  as  a  vulgar  class.  Such  a  result  would  disturb  the  whole  mechanism 
of  Association.  Friendship  must  be  general  among  all  classes,  in  order  that 
the  rich  may  feel  no  repugnance  in  taking  part  in  the  occupations  of  all  the 
series.  Attraction,  consequently,  must  be  extended  to  every  branch  of  Indus 
try,  and  care  be  taken  that  no  branch  be  despised,  or  considered  even  dis 
reputable. 

"  The  Little  Hordes  are  divided  into  three  classes.  The  First  is  devoted  to 
unclean  or  filthy  functions,  such  as  cleaning  of  sinks,  sewers,  privies,  manage 
ment  of  manures,  etc.  The  second  to  the  destruction  of  reptiles  and  insects, 
and  to  the  employments  requiring  dexterity.  The  third  participates  in  the 
functions  of  both. 

"  No  passion  is  more  marked  in  children  from  ten  to  twelve  years  of  age  than 
that  of  filth  and  dirt.  If  we  do  not  wish  to  change  the  passions,  we  must  find 
means  of  making  use  of  this  taste,  which  Nature,  it  is  evident,  gives  to  one 
half  of  children.  The  Combined  order  will,  in  the  corporation  of  the  Little 


486  APPENDIX. 

Hordes,  make  a  most  precious  use  in  social  equilibrium  of  this  pretended  de 
pravity  of  taste. 

u  Association  will  employ  the  passions  as  God  created  them,  without  changing 
their  nature.  This  is  the  whole  mystery  and  secret  of  the  calculation  of  Pas 
sional  Attraction.  The  question  is  not  discussed  whether  the  Creator  was 
right  or  wrong  in  giving  to  mankind  such  and  such  passions :  they  will  be 
made  use  of  as  God  gave  them. 

"The  taste  for  the  dirty  occupations  is  harmless  and  without  pretension  in 
young  children ;  it  takes  a  higher  flight  in  those  from  nine  to  twelve ;  they 
carry  it  from  the  simple  to  the  compound,  and  plot  vast  plans  of  filthy  roguery. 
For  example,  they  go  of  an  evening  and  besmear  the  knockers  and  bell- 
handles  of  doors  with  dirt ;  their  delight  is  to  play  these  pranks  upon  every 
body.  Their  plots  are  well  planned  and  dexterously  executed,  except  that 
now  and  then  they  receive  a  few  lashes,  which  do  not,  however,  diminish 
their  noble  ardor. 

"  Whence  comes  this  inclination  for  filth  in  boys  from  ten  to  twelve  ?  Is  it 
a  defect  of  education,  or  want  of  precepts  ?  It  is  neither,  for  the  more  you 
preach  to  them  against  it,  the  more  they  will  persevere  in  it.  Is  it  depravity  ? 
Nature  then  must  be  depraved,  for  it  is  she  who  gives  them  this  passion!  If 
the  system  of  Attraction  be  true  in  all  its  details,  this  attraction  must  be  given 
for  a  useful  purpose,  in  as  much  as  it  is  so  strong  with  a  majority  of  children 
of  this  age. 

"This  enigma  cannot  be  solved  in  civilization;  Association  explains  it;  the 
taste  for  dirt  is  a  necessary  impulse  to  enlist  children  in  the  corporation  of  the 
Little  Hordes,  to  induce  them  to  undergo  daily  the  disgust  connected  with  dirty 
work,  and  to  open  for  themselves  in  filthy  functions,  a  vast  career  of  industrial 
glory  and  unitary  philanthrophy. 

"  The  inclination  for  dirt,  which  we  find  predominant  in  children,  is  but  a 
rude  germ ;  it  must  be  refined  by  the  application  of  two  incentives:  Unitary 
religious  spirit  and  Corporative  honor.  Sustained  by  these  incentives,  repug 
nant  occupations  will  become  for  children  the  sports  of  a  compound  indirect 
Attraction. 

"In  taking  upon  themselves  the  performance  of  mephitical  functions,  in 
which  the  health  of  the  laboring  mass  at  present  is  frequently  undermined, 
children  in  the  Combined  order  will  never  expose  theirs,  being  always  well 
cleaned  and  perfumed  before  and  after  a  short  period  of  labor."  pp.  443—6. 

This  is  Fourierism.  This  was  written  by  Fourier  himself,  translated  by 
Brisbane,  and  this  is  the  system  of  which  the  Tribune  claims  to  be  the  only 
organ. 

In  copying  these  three  pages,  we  have  done  "  dirty  work"  enough  for  one 
week,  and  here  we  will  pause.  We  need  a  little  cleansing  and  perfuming 
after  such  a  labor.  But  we  ask,  in  the  name  of  our  common  humanity,  if  such 
a  chapter  of  infamous  nonsense  was  ever  perpetrated  before?  Did  mortal 
man  ever  conceive  the  like  of  it?  And  will  parents,  will  Christians,  will 
good  citizens  encourage  the  dissemination  of  such  trash  as  this?  We  talk 
against  light  literature  and  a  licentious  press  and  all  that,  but  here  are  a  set 
of  men,  employing  their  utmost  energies  to  circulate  these  doctrines  that  aim 
at  the  abrogation  of  marriage,  and  the  institution  of  one  great  brothel  and 
foundling  hospital,  where  the  decrees  of  the  heart  shall  be  the  true  guide  to 
the  intercourse  of  the  sexes,  and  the  children  shall  be  kept  and  trained  to 
perform  the  "  filthy  functions"  of  this  rotten  Sodom  ;  and  professing  Christians 
actually  encourage  and  defend  these  men  in  their  open  and  profligate  war 
upon  society,  civilization  and  virtue.  Incredible  as  it  may  seem,  it  is  no  less 
true  that,  since  our  last  paper  was  published,  the  editor  of  the  N.  Y.  Tribune, 


APPENDIX.  487 

in  his  paper  of  June  30,  declares,  that  "  he  has  expended  for  the  specific  pur 
pose  of  carrying  out  his  theories  of  Fourierism  some  thousands  of  dollars,  and 
intends  to  make  the  same  disposition  of  more  as  soon  as  he  has  it  to  expend." 
This  we  mention  that  the  Christian  public  may  understand  the  nature  and 
something  of  the  extent  of  the  efforts  that  are  made  to  undermine  society,  and 
where  the  money  comes  from  that  is  spent  in  this  pestilent  work.  But  we 
will  follow  up  this  subject  hereafter. 


APPENDIX  G.  TO  CHAPTER  XII. 

From  the  New  York  Observer,  for  August  1846,  by  the  Editor. 
FOURIERISM:  FURTHER  DEVELOPMENTS. 

Fourier's  plan  suggests  corporations  or  classes  in  society:  we  have  been  in 
the  habit  of  supposing  that  all  were  to  be  on  terms  of  social  equality,  and  this 
is  evidently  the  favorite  scheme  of  the  American  school.  They  advocate  the 
reduction  of  the  present  isolated  household  system  to  one  great  family,  where 
the  passions  shall  regulate  the  intercourse  of  the  sexes,  and  common  provision 
be  made  for  the  children.  But  Fourier  prescribes  distinct  orders,  and  here  he 
shows  his  superiority  over  the  Brisbanes,  Godwins  and  Greeleys  of  the  day. 
He  divides  the  Phalanx  into  corporations. 

The  first  embraces  those  who  wish  to  be  "  constant  in  love." 

But  he  says  that  "  others  are  formed  for  change,"  and  these  are 

"  So  peculiarly  formed  that  they  will  join  themselves  to  other  corporations 
more  or  less  severe,  as  may  be  agreeable  to  their  inclinations  and  temperaments. 
The  statutes  of  the  different  corporations  of  this  series  will  be  sufficiently 
varied  to  allow  each  person  to  find  congenial  natures." 

Recollect  that  this  is  not  our  language.  It  is  the  exposition  of  Fourierism  by 
the  ablest  defender  of  it  in  America:  by  a  man  who  was  once  a  member  of 
the  Princeton  Theological  Seminary,  a  candidate  for  the  ministry  in  the  Pres 
byterian  church;  an  educated  man,  now  a  Fourierite!!  While  we  make  this 
painful  statement  to  show  that  the  view  is  from  a  hand  friendly  to  Fonrierism, 
we  also  show  that  Fourierism  is  not  so  perfect  a  piece  of  folly  that  Christians 
have  no  need  to  fear  its  progress.  The  advocates  of  the  system  are  careful  to 
put  forth  in  their  newspaper  only  its  more  popular  and  attractive  features,  and 
when  a  victim  has  been  beguiled  by  these,  he  is  on  the  highway  to  the  true 
and  real  objects  of  the  association  which  we  have  exhibited  from  their  books. 

Thus  far  the  only  attempt  to  meet  these  developments  has  been  made  by  a 
flat  denial  of  the  fairness  of  our  quotations.  We  invite  the  severest  scrutiny 
into  these  extracts.  Any  one  can  step  into  a  bookstore  and  ask  for  Brisbane's 
or  Godwin's  works,  and  test  this  question  for  himself.  The  Fourierites  know 
that  we  have  not  imputed  a  single  shadow  of  licentious  sentiment  to  them 
which  is  riot  over  and  over  again  taught  and  avowed  with  perfect  clearness 
in  their  writings.  And  now  we  desire  to  say  that  no  man,  having  a  know 
ledge  of  the  subject,  will  deny  the  truth  of  our  representations,  unless  he  has 
made  falsehood  his  profession,  and  by  a  long  course  of  daily  practice  has  ac 
quired  as  thorough  a  contempt  for  truth  as  Fourier  had  of  female  virtue.  Such 
a  man  will  charge  us  with  unfairness ;  no  other  man  will. 

When  we  published  the  appalling  passage  in  which  the  infamous  father  of 
this  system  revealed  his  plan  for  the  regulation  of  marriage,  the  Tribune  editor 
attempted  to  parry  the  force  of  it  by  saying : 

"Fourier  propounded  no  such  'plan'  nor  even  'theory1  as  is  here  attributed  to 


488  APPENDIX. 

him  as  a  part  of  his  system  of  Association."  "  No  such  passage  as  the  Ob 
server  quotes  is  contained  in  any  of  his  translated  works,  so  we  necessarily 
depend  on  the  testimony  of  others  to  sustain  us  in  saying  the  passage  out  of 
which  it  has  been  made,  is  given  by  the  author  as  conjectural  and  hypothetical 
only,  just  as  there  are  in  his  multifarious  writings  theories  of  Cosmogony,  of 
Life  in  the  Sun  and  various  Planets,  the  production  of  beings  on  one  by  the 
influence  of  other  Planets,  &c.  &c.  All  these,  like  the  kindred  reveries  of 
Swedenborg,  may  be  very  extravagant  and  absurd,  or  may  not,  for  aught  we 
care." 

But  when  the  evidence  was  produced  by  the  editor  of  the  Buffalo  Com 
mercial  that  the  passage  was  literally  translated,  word  for  word  from  one  of 
Fourier's  books,  in  which  he  is  treating  of  the  blessed  and  beautiful  state  of 
things  which  will  prevail  when  his  system  is  established,  then  the  Tribune 
Editor  says  that  he  "has  never  seen  the  book!'''  Nothing  but  the  profligacy  of 
Fourierism  could  furnish  a  parallel  to  this.  First  he  denies  that  Fourier  ever 
propounded  any  such  theory,  and  when  it  is  produced,  admits  that  he  has 
never  seen  the  book  which  he  defends ! 

But  where  shall  we  go  to  find  testimony  to  the  principles  of  Fourier  which 
this  man  will  not  impeach'?  When  we  quote  from  the  ablest  expositors  of 
the  system,  he  denies  that  Association  is  responsible  for  the  opinions  of  indi 
viduals.  When  we  copy  from  Fourier,  he  says  that  the  passages  are  "con 
jectural  and  hypothetical  only."  Who  will  tell  us  what  Fourier  did  believe 
on  the  subject  of  female  purity?  Let  us  ask  the  Tribune  Editor  himself.  In 
his  paper  of  Saturday  last,  he  says : 

"  Fourier,  living  in  an  age  and  city  where  Libertinism  was  the  rule  and 
Purity  the  exception,  a  lonely,  joyous,  keenly  observing  man,  deeply  impressed 
with  the  conviction  that  whatever  God  has  created  or  appointed  must  be  good, 
and  a  witness  of  the  miseries  which  the  hypocrisy,  jealousy  and  radical  false 
hood  now  induced  in  society  by  restraints  on  sexual  desire  so  ostentatiously 
proclaimed  and  (in  Paris  especially)  so  commonly  disregarded,  fell  into  the 
great  mistake  of  supposing  that  Inconstancy  is  not  the  result  of  false  or  de 
ficient  training,  and  that  Chastity  is  not  the  dictate  of  unperverted  Nature  in 
every  human  and  especially  in  every  woman's  soul.  'Here  are  persons  who 
seem  inherently  inclined  to  Inconstancy,'  is  his  idea;  'if  God  has  so  made 
them,  Man  cannot  change  them.  Let  us  recognize  the  fact,  and  separate 
them  into  a  class,  which  shall  be  governed  by  laws  adapted  to  their  actual 
condition.  To  treat  them  as  utterly  depraved  outcasts  will  only  aggravate 
the  evils  we  would  eradicate.' " 

There  is  nothing  in  Brisbane,  or  Godwin,  or  Fourier  which  more  clearly 
develops  the  doctrine  of  Fourierism  than  this.  We  have  charged  just  this 
and  no  more  as  the  "teachings  of  Fourier."  Here  we  are  told  that  Fourier,  a 
"  lonely,  joyous  man,"  a  witness  of  the  miseries  of  society  "induced  by  re 
straints  on  sexual  desire,"  provided  a  system  to  meet  the  case.  But  the 
Editor,  now  that  the  fact  can  no  longer  be  denied,  admits  that  his  master 
taught  these  vile  doctrines,  but  he  declares  that  he  himself  does  not  receive 
them.  He  says, — 

"All  that  need  be  said  then  of  Fourier's  speculations  respecting  a  far  future 
condition  in  which  Incontinence  should  be  recognized  and  legislated  for,  is 
just  this — they  were  wholly  erroneous.  We  have  never  seen  them  alluded 
to  by  a  friend  of  Association  but  to  dissent  from  them." 

To  this  we  oppose  his  own  declaration  over  his  own  name  attached  to  the 
Prospectus  of  the  Sylvanian  Association.  Here  it  is : 

"  The  Sylvanians  reject  nothing  of  Fourier's  teachings" 

HORACE  GREELET,  Treasurer. 


APPENDIX.      '  489 

And  if  this  is  not  enough,  he  adds  in  the  same  paragraph, 

"  After  thus  delivering  themselves  from  the  evils  and  depressing  influences 
which  surround  and  overwhelm  the  great  mass  of  their  brethren,  and  thus 
pointing  out  to  all  the  means  of  emancipation,  they  will  be  able  to  proceed 
with  the  study  of  the  more  metaphysical  and  speculative  parts  of  Fourier's  doc~ 
trine,  and  to  the  application  of  these,  as  well  as  the  teachings  of  all  other  philo 
sophers,  sages,  and  preachers  of  righteousness,  to  their  own  upbuilding  in 
the  ways  of  Truth,  Wisdom,  and  Love." 

It  is  certainly  no  pleasure  to  us  to  annihilate  in  this  manner  every  "  refuge 
of  lies"  behind  which  these  men  take  shelter,  but  it  must  be  done,  and  the 
work  is  only  just  begun! 

It  will  be  perceived  that  this  apologist  often  speaks  of  the  reign  of  Fourier- 
ism  as  "a  far  future"  in  "generations  yet  to  come,"  &c.  &c.,  as  if  this  should 
quiet  all  apprehension.  But  is  it  any  apology  for  the  vileness  of  a  bad  sys 
tem  that  it  will  take  years  to  establish  if?  Have  we  no  duty  to  perform  for 
those  who  come  after  us,  a^d  shall  we  be  lulled  to  silence,  by  the  pretence 
that  three  or  four,  or  even  "  seven"  periods  must  elapse  before  perfect  liberty 
will  be  perfect  law?  Instead  of  this,  it  is  the  part  of  wisdom  and  common 
prudence  to  strangle  the  monster  in  the  cradle,  and  save  posterity  from  the 
fangs  of  a  serpent  now  in  training  to  poison  and  destroy  them.  Christians  believe 
that  in  a  day  "far  future"  the  knowledge  of  God  will  fill  the  earth,  and  every 
man  will  love  his  neighbor  as  himself;  and  Christians  are  responsible  for  the 
doctrines  they  believe  and  teach  to  hasten  that  blessed  day.  Fourierites  be 
lieve  that  in  a  day  far  future,  the  decrees  of  the  heart  will  be  the  rule  for  the 
intercourse  of  the  sexes,  and  perfect  liberty  will  be  perfect  law,  and  Fourier 
ites  are  responsible  for  the  doctrines  they  believe  and  teach  to  hasten  that  day. 

But  to  proceed.  In  his  paper  of  July  18,  in  replying  to  the  passage  already 
alluded  to  from  Fourier,  where  he  speaks  of  the  number  of  women  each  man 
may  have  in  Association,  the  Fourier  advocate  says  that, 

"  The  passage  out  of  which  it  has  been  made,  is  given  by  the  author  as 
conjectural  and  hypothetical  only,  just  as  there  are  in  his  multifarious  writings 
theories  of  Cosmogony,  of  Life  in  the  Sun  and  various  Planets,  the  produc 
tion  of  beings  on  one  by  the  influence  of  other  Planets,  &c.  &c.  All  these, 
like  the  kindred  reveries  of  Swedenborg,  may  be  very  extravagant  and  absurd, 
or  may  not,  for  aught  we  care." 

Read  this  again,  and  observe  that  we  have  now  driven  the  Fourierites  to 
admit  that  these  were  the  real  sentiments  of  Fourier,  and  if  we  can  now  show 
that  these  theories  and  kindred  reveries  are  actually  regarded  as  part  of  the 
subjects  of  study  in  Association,  we  have  then  completed  the  chain  of  evi 
dence  by  which  we  fasten  upon  the  New  York  Associationists,  the  charge  of 
seeking  to  propagate  the  most  infamous  system  that  was  ever  advocated  in  a 
civilized  land.  We  will  now  prove  it. 

The  Fourierites  are  constantly  maintaining  that  they  are  simply  aiming  at 
a  new  industrial  organization,  which  will  secure  an  adequate  reward  to  labor, 
and  banish  want  from  the  world.  When  we  reach  the  subject  of  labor  in 
this  discussion,  we  shall  show  the  folly  of  that  part  of,  the  system,  but  now 
we  wish  to  expose  the  hypocrisy  of  the  men  who  deny  that  Fourier's  theories 
of  the  passions,  his  cosmogony,  &c.,  are  any  part  of  the  objects  which  Asso 
ciationists  set  before  them.  We  will  show  that  in  the  early  period  of  the 
introduction  of  the  system  into  this  country,  the  "  industrial"  order  was  pre 
sented  as  the  object,  but  "the  time  has  now  come  to  make  known  the  higher  parts 
of  the  system,  the  theory  of  the  passions,  of  cosmogony,"  &c. 

In  1844,  Albert  Brisbane  was  sent  to  France  by  the  American  Association 
ists.  The  object  and  result  of  his  mission  will  be  learned  from  the  following 


490  APPENDIX.      - 

report  which  he  made  on  his  return.  We  might  content  ourselves  by  extract 
ing  a  single  passage  of  it,  which  we  mark  in  italics,  but  we  should  be  charged 
with  unfairness  in  quotation,  and  so  we  give  the  whole  report.  It  is,  as  a 
whole,  an  important  item  of  the  history  of  this  Fourier  movement. 

"TO  THE  ASSOCIATIOJflSTS   OF  THE  UlflTED  STATES. 

"After  an  absence  of  eight  months  from  the  United  States,  I  arrived  here 
from  Europe  on  the  19th  of  December,  having  accomplished,  with  complete 
satisfaction,  the  object  for  which  I  visited  France,  the  birthplace  of  FOUHIER. 

"You  are  aware  that  I  was  delegated  by  the  General  Convention  of  the 
Associationists,  held  in  New  York  last  spring,  to  proceed  to  France  to  confer 
with  the  friends  of  the  cause  in  that  country,  and  to  study  the  manuscripts 
left  by  FOURIER,  and  obtain  all  the  knowledge  possible  upon  the  higher 
scientific  parts  of  our  doctrine.  I  cannot  express  too  strongly  my  obligations 
to  our  friends  in  Europe,  for  their  cordial  receptftn  and  the  facilities  afforded 
me  for  accomplishing  the  object  of  my  mission. 

"Mr.  Doherty,  the  scientific  propagator  of  the  cause  in  England,  passed  the 
summer  in  Paris,  and  gave  a  deeply  interesting  course  of  lectures  upon  the 
results  of  his  studies  of  the  science  of  Universal  Unity,  founded  by  Fourier. 

"  The  primary  object  of  my  visit  was  to  study  and  obtain  copies  of  Fourier's 
MSS.:  and  in  this  I  succeeded  fully.  Our  noble  friend.  Victor  Considerant, 
the  leader  of  the  movement  in  France,  and  with  whom  the  MSS.  are  depo 
sited,  permitted  me  to  take  copies  for  the  use  of  the  American  school,  of  every 
thing  that  was  new  and  important.  I  passed  six  months  in  Paris,  employed 
incessantly  in  the  work  of  examining  and  copying  these  precious  documents, 
and  employed  a  person  constantly  for  three  months  in  writing.  The  MSS. 
left  by  Fourier  are  very  voluminous  :  they  consist  of  about  one  hundred  bound, 
and  three  large  portfolios,  containing  unbound  ones,  and  isolated  sheets.  The 
bound  ones  contain  from  100  to  150  pages  each,  and  are  the  most  important. 

"  These  MSS.  were  written  during  the  entire  course  of  Fourier's  studies  and 
researches  upon  the  great  problems  of  human  destiny  and  social  reorganiza 
tion.  Those  in  the  portfolios  were  written,  as  far  as  I  could  judge,  between 
the  years  1803  and  1812;  the  bound  ones  subsequent  to  the  year  1816. 
From  the  latter  were  extracted  Fourier's  great  works  of  Universal  Unity  and 
The  New  Industrial  World,  published  in  1822  and  1830. 

"The  MSS.  are  of  the  greatest  value  and  of  indispensable  necessity  to  those 
who  wish  to  obtain  a  higher  and  more  complete  knowledge  of  those  great 
scientific  problems  of  Man's  Destiny  on  earth,  social  unity,  &c.,  which  interest 
so  deeply  the  Associative  School.  They  contain  important  developments  of 
Fourier's  method  of  investigation,  and  of  the  principles  which  he  applied  in 
solving  problems  of  all  orders,  from  the  highest  to  the  lowest,  from  the  im 
mortality  of  the  soul  to  the  simplest  questions  in  natural  science.  With  the 
aid  of  these  principles,  and  by  the  application  of  talent  and  perseverance,  the 
Associative  School  can  continue  in  the  great  career  of  investigation  in  the 
domain  of  undiscovered  truths,  and  penetrate  into  the  mysteries  of  Nature,  so 
few  of  which  have  been  unfolded  to  the  knowledge  of  man. 

"  A  class  will  be  formed  of  persons  who  have  time  and  capacity  to  prosecute 
the  study  of  the  MSS.,  and  higher  parts  of  Social  Science,  the  result  of  whose 
labors  it  will  be  a  desire  as  well  as  duty,  to  make  known  to  our  friends. 
Another  thing  which  it  is  desirable  to  have  done  as  early  as  possible,  is  the 
translation  and  publication  of  Fourier's  works ;  this  translation  is  in  part 
made,  and  if  arrangements  now  in  progress  respecting  a  publication  office  for 
all  the  writings  of  the  school  are  completed,  they  will  probably  be  published 


APPENDIX.  491 

during  the  course  of  the  present  year.  We  have  heretofore  propagated  princi 
pally  the  practical  and  industrial  parts  of  our  doctrine;  the  time  has  now  come 
when  it  is  necessary  to  make  known  the  higher  parts — those  parts  relating  to  the.  theory 
of  the  passions  and  faculties  of  the  soul;  the  theory  of  Cosmogony  ;  of  the  Immor 
tality  of  the  Soul;  of  the  causes  of  Evil ;  the  material  unity  of  the  Globe,  and  other 
great  questions  which  are  embraced  in  the  science  of  Universal  Unity.  It  is  only  com 
plete  knowledge  that  can  fire  the  souls  of  men  with  an  enthusiasm  deep  and  abiding 
enough  to  carry  out  the  mighty  movement  in  which  we  are  embarked,  and  enable 
them  to  build  up  that  true  and  divine  Social  Order,  which,  unlike  false  civiliza 
tion,  shall  shelter  and  protect  all  the  children  of  men  under  its  Providence. 

"During  my  stay  in  Paris,  I  also  obtained  copies  of  the  plans  of  the  Edifices 
of  an  Association,  which  had  been  made  with  great  labor  and  at  great  ex 
pense  by  the  best  architects  in  France,  under  the  supervision  of  the  school  at 
Paris,  and  in  part  of  Fourier  himself.  They  will  be  invaluable  guides  to 
those  Associations  which  are  able  to  construct  an  edifice  of  a  Unitary  charac 
ter  upon  a  large  scale. 

"  Before  concluding,  I  have  a  few  words  to  say  upon  practical  trials  of  Asso 
ciations.  From  the  past  year's  study  and  observation,  I  am  convinced  that 
the  organization  of  an  Association  is  a  thing  of  great  difficulty,  and  that  it 
requires,  1st,  a  very  thorough  and  minute  knowledge  of  the  system — far  more 
than  is  possessed  by  the  great  body  of  the  Associationists ;  2d — a  sufficient 
amount  of  capital,  to  give  to  industry  a  good  organization,  without  which  the 
mechanism  of  the  Groups  and  Series  of  Groups  cannot  be  applied  ;  and  3d— 
men  and  women  who,  in  spite  of  all  the  selfish  influences  of  society  upon 
them,  have  preserved  warm  social  sympathies  and  generous  impulses  toward, 
their  fellow-beings.  'The  love  of  the  neighbor'  exists  at  present  only  as  an 
exception  in  the  hearts  of  a  few,  although  it  is  destined,  under  a  true  Social 
Order,  to  exist  in  the  hearts  of  all.  But  as  it  does  not  and  cannot  exist  to  any 
great  extent  in  incoherent  civilization,  those  in  whom  it  may  be  found  must 
be  united  to  carry  through  the  painful  process  of  organizing  Associations, 
which  process  forms  a  transitional  period,  full  of  difficulties. 

"  I  would  advise  our  friends  throughout  the  country,  who  design  establishing 
associations,  to  consult  well  beforehand  with  the  old  friends  of  the  cause  in 
New  York  and  Boston,  who  have  had  time  and  opportuniny  to  study  the 
science.  By  this  means,  they  may  save  themselves  a  great  deal  of  trouble,  or 
a  failure,  and  the  cause  from  reproach.  A.  BRISBANE. 

"New  York,  Feb.  1846." 

In  this  document,  it  appears  that  the  translation  and  publication  of  Fourier's 
manuscripts  are  to  be  secured,  and  the  victims  of  association  are  to  be  inducted 
into  the  higher  parts  of  his  theory,  when  the  Sylvanians  will  of  course  be 
able  "  to  proceed  with  the  study  of  the  more  metaphysical  and  speculative 
parts  of  Fourier's  doctrine,  and  to  the  application  of  those  to  their  own  up 
building  in  the  ways  of  truth,  wisdom  and  love." 

Revolution  in  the  present  "  Industrial"  system  is  therefore  only  the  first 
step,  but  the  grand  object  of  the  Fourierites  of  this  city  is  to  establish  "  com 
munities"  where  there  shall  be  no  restraint  on  the  passions,  where  woman 
shall  feel  no  dependence  on  man  for  support,  but  shall  have  perfect  liberty  of 
body,  and  in  the  words  of  a  cotemporary,  whose  "  lust  shall  be  reduced  to  a 
science,  and  its  enjoyment  supreme."  We  have  demonstrated  these  facts  by 
the  most  irrefragable  proof,  and  in  leaving  this  part  of  the  subject,  we  submit 
the  testimony  to  be  canvassed  by  the  Christian  world. 


492  APPENDIX. 

The  following  article  is  worthy  of  being  transferred  in  full  into  our  columns. 
It  is  one  of  many  that  are  now  appearing  in  various  parts  of  the  country, 
showing  that  the  public  mind  is  aroused  on  the  subject. 

From  the  Buffalo  Commercial  Advertiser,  (  Whig) 

FOUKIEB.ISM. — The  New  York  Observer,  long  and  widely  known  as  one  of 
the  ablest  religious  papers  of  the  country,  has  undertaken  to  show  up  Fourier- 
ism  in  its  moral  aspects.  The  writer  proceeds  to  his  task  with  a  cool,  steady 
hand,  like  one  who  is  intimately  conversant  with  the  subject,  and  promises  to 
make  thorough  work  with  it.  In  the  Observer  for  Saturday  last,  he  thus  speaks 
of  the  licentiousness  of  Fourierism  : 

"  We  have  now  to  present  a  paragraph  from  the  writings  of  Fourier,  in  which 
he  is  describing  the  manner  of  life  in  the  new  social  order  which  he  proposes. 
He  is  speaking  of  the  state  of  things  as  if  his  plans  were  already  in  operation, 
and  he  says : 

'"A  wife  may  have  at  the  same  time  a  husband  of  whom  she  has  two 
children ;  2.  A  genitor,  by  whom  she  has  but  one  child ;  3.  A  favorite,  who 
has  lived  with  her,  and  preserved  the  title ;  and  further  simple  possessors, 
who  are  nothing  before  the  law.  This  gradation  of  title  establishes  a  great 
courteousness  and  great  fidelity  to  the  engagement.  Men  do  the  same  to  their 
divers  wives.  This  method  prevents  completely  the  hypocrisy  of  which 
marriage  is  the  source.  Misses  would  by  no  means  be  degraded  for  having 
had  '  gallants,'  because  they  had  waited  before  they  took  them  to  the  age  of 
eighteen.  They  would  be  married  without  scruple,  as  a  widow  with  children 
is  married.  ****  Our  ideas  of  the  honor  and  virtue  of  women  are  but  preju 
dices,  which  vary  with  our  legislation.'  " 

To  the  article  in  the  Observer,  from  which  we  have  made  this  extract,  the 
Tribune  replies  at  great  length,  and  in  relation  to  the  above  quotation  from 
Fourier,  which  it  does  not  give,  but  only  refers  to,  the  Tribune  says : 

"  Now  the  knavery  of  this  pretended  citation  of  '  his  theory,'  '  his  plan,'  &c. 
&c.,  has  already  been  fully  exposed  to  the  public.  Fourier  propounded  no 
such  '  plan1  nor  even  '  theory'  as  is  here  attributed  to  him  as  a  part  of  his  system 
of  association.  He  expressly  declared,  as  have  his  followers  after  him,  that  all 
questions  regarding  marriage  and  the  relations  of  the  sexes  should  be  settled 
by  the  ministers  of  religion  and  the  women  of  a  nobler  and  purer  era,  and  that 
meantime  existing  institutions  should  be  sustained.  This  is  his  '  theory'  and 
his  '  plan.'  No  such  passage  as  the  Observer  quotes  is  contained  in  any  of 
his  translated  works,  so  we  necessarily  depend  on  the  testimony  of  others  to 
sustain  us  in  saying  that  the  passage  out  of  which  it  has  been  made  is  given 
by  the  author  as  conjectural  and  hypothetical  only,  just  as  there  are  in  his 
multifarious  writings  theories  of  cosmogony,  of  life  in  the  sun  and  various 
planets,  the  production  of  beings  on  one  by  the  influence  of  other  planets,  &c. 
&c." 

We  have  no  desire  to  aid  in  hurrying  the  Tribune's  cattle,  but  we  like  to 
see  fair  play,  and  while  reading  the  above  quasi  denial  of  the  Tribune  that 
Fourier  had  propounded  any  such  plan  as  the  Observer  imputed  to  him,  we 
had  a  dim  recollection  of  reading,  some  years  ago,  precisely  this  plan  in 
Fourier's  works :  and  turning  to  his  "  Theorie  des  Quatre  Mouvemens  et  des  Des- 
tinees  Generates,"  which  is  a  sort  of  summing  up  of  what  he  anticipates  as  the 
result  of  a  recognition  of  his  doctrines,  we  found  the  following.  The  first  ex 
tract  will  be  found  on  page  169,  under  the  head  of  "  Methode  d'union  des  sexes 
en  septieme  periode :" 


APPENDIX.  493 

"  On  £tablit  divers  grades  dans  les  unions  amoreuses ;  les  trois  principaux 
sont: 

Les  favor  is  et  favorites  en  litre. 
Les  geniteurs  et  genitrices. 
Les  epoux  et  epouses. 

"  Les  derniers  doivent  avoir  au  moins  deux  enfans  1'un  de  1'autre,  les  seconds 
n'en  ont  qu'un,  les  premiers  n'en  ont  pas.  Ces  titres  donnent  aux  conjoints 
des  droits  progressifs  sur  une  portion  de  1'heritage  respectif. 

"Une  femme  peut  avoir  a  la  fois,  l.oun  epoux  dont  elle  a  deux  enfans;  2, 
o.  un  geniteur  dont  elle  n'a  qu'un  enfant ;  3  o.  un  favori  qui  a  vecu  avec  elle 
et  conserve  le  litre:  plus,  de  simples  possesseurs  qui  ne  sont  rien  devant  la 
loi.  Celle  gradalion  de  lilres  etablit  une  grande  courtoisie  et  une  grande 
fidelite  aux  engagemens.  Une  femme  peut  refuser  le  litre  de  geniteur  a  un 
favori  donl  elle  esl  enceinle :  elle  peul  dans  les  cas  de  mecontentement,  re 
fuser  ainsi  a  ces  divers  hommes  le  tilre  superieur  auquel  ils  aspirenl.  Les 
homines  en  agissenl  de  meme  avec  leurs  diverses  femmes.  Celle  methode 
previent  compleiemenl  1'hypocrisie  dont  le  mariage  esl  la  source." 

On  page  180,  he  says,  "en  these  generate ;" 

"  Les  progres  sociaux  el  changemens  de  periode  s'operent  en  raison  du  pro 
gres  des  femmes  vers  la  liberie ;  et  les  decadences  d'ordre  social  s'operent  en 
raison  du  decroissemenl  de  la  liberte  des  femmes." 

And  again : 

"  En  resume,  Textension  des  privileges  des  femmes  est  le  principe  general 
de  tous  progres  sociaux." 

On  page  193,  we  find  ihe  following : 

"  Les  Demoiselles  ne  seraient  aucunement  degradees  pour  avoir  eu  des 
amans,  puisqu'elles  auraienl  altendu  pour  en  prendre,  Tage  de  18  ans  exige 
par  les  lois.  On  les  epouserail  sans  plus  de  scrupule  qu'on  n'en  a  d'epouser 
une  veuve  qui  a  des  enfans.  Si  c'est  un  affront  que  d'etre  second  possesseur 
en  mariage,  pourquoi  les  hommes  sont  ils  si  friands  d'epouser  une  veuve  riche, 
et  se  charger  de  Teducation  des  enfans  d'autrui;  enfans  qui  peuvenl  provenir 
de  differens  peres,  si  la  veuve  a  ete  galante  ?" 

Those  who  read  French  will  perceive  that  the  Observer  has  literally  trans 
lated  Fourier's  own  words,  deliberately  expressed,  though  we  have  given 
some  extracts  that  the  Observer  has  not  seen  fit  lo  Iranslate.  Objeclionable 
and  disgusting  as  this  is,  il  is  due  lo  ihe  cause  of  juslice  and  virlue  thai  ihe 
whole  should  be  staled,  that  those  partially  templed  lo  embrace  ihe  iheories 
of  Fourier,  so  plausibly  and  seduclively  set  forth  by  iheir  advocates,  under  Ihe 
guise  of  philanlhropy  and  a  higher,  purer  morality,  may  know  whither  all 
these  things  tend.  These  conclusions  of  the  master  have  been  withheld  from 
ihe  public,  or  have  been  so  covertly  insinuated  as  not  to  excile  alarm ;  but 
when  Ihe  disciples  are  prepared  for  farlher  revelalions,  Ihe  whole  scheme  in 
all  its  enormity  will  be  unfolded. 

The  Tribune  says,  ;'  Fourier  expressly  declared,  as  have  his  followers  after 
him,  thai  all  questions  regarding  marriage,  and  the  relations  of  the  sexes, 
should  be  setlled  by  ihe  ministers  of  religion  and  women  of  a  nobler  and  purer 
era."  What  is  meant  by  this  phrase,  "  nobler  and  purer  era,"  and  how  Fourier 
recommends  lhat  marriage  and  the  sexual  relations  shall  be  setlled,  can  be 
seen  by  ihe  above  extracts  from  his  writings,  and  the  Iranslation  therefrom  by 
the  Observer.  The  Fourieritish  work  now  going  on  in  this  country  is  ihe 
necessary  preparalion  for  ihe  blissful  era,  when  lust  shall  be  reduced  to  a 
science,  and  its  dominion  be  supreme.  It  cannol  be  lhal  ihe  editor  of  ihe 
Tribune,  with  all  his  advocacy  of  Fourierism,  has  ever  studied  it  to  its  end, 


494  APPENDIX. 

or  has  been  admitted  farther  than  the  portals  of  a  theory  that  contemplates 
such  vile  and  monstrous  conclusions.  He  would  recoil  with  horror  from  such 
a  society  as  Fourier  proposes.  But  there  are  those  who.  in  their  advocacy  of 
the  system,  cannot  plead  ignorance.  They  know  it  but  too  well,  and  with 
the  wile  of  a  serpent,  are  insinuating  its  poison  into  the  very  heart  of  the 
people.  We  owe  an  apology  to  our  readers  for  spreading  such  details  before 
them,  but  when  we  find  the  writings  of  George  Sand  commended  for  their 
moral  tone  by  prints  of  wide  spread  circulation  and  influence,  and  regular 
missions  planned  for  disseminating  Fourierism  throughout  the  land,  it  is  time 
the  subject  were  met  and  exposed  by  the  press. 


"  THE  VESTIGES  OF  CREATION." 

NOTE  K. — Since  writing  this  work,  the  author  had  the  happiness  to  attend 
the  lectures  of  Prof.  Agassiz,  delivered  in  New  York,  and  the  following  is 
his  opinion  of  a  work  of  which  it  is  reported  twenty-five  thousand  copies 
were  sold  on  its  appearance.  So  much  does  the  world  love  any  theory,  how 
ever  false,  if  it  be  but  specious,  which  goes  to  overthrow  the  inspiration  of 
the  Scriptures.  The  citizens  of  New  York  were  all  alive  to  hear  what  the 
professor  would  say  to  the  (to  most  of  them)  New  Theory  of  Development. 
And  not  a  few  were  in  dismay  ,»when  the  following  sentence  was  delivered 
by  the  professor  in  his  sixth  lecture,  which  at  once  demolished  all  their  hopes 
of  his  confirming  them  in  their  belief  that  the  Bible  was  a  fable. 

Doct.  Houston,  reporter  for  the  United  States,  whose  accuracy  is  unques 
tioned,  reported  these  lectures,  which  were  published  at  the  time  in  the  New 
York  Tribune.  In  referring  to  the  theory,  new- vamped  for  the  admiration  of 
the  would-be  pantheists  of  our  day,  the  professor  said : — 

"These  views,  to  which  I  shall  recur  when  I  come  to  speak  of  the  position 
of  Man  in  Nature,  and  of  his  relations  to  the  Animal  Kingdom,  disagree  en 
tirely  with  the  views,  and  have  not  the  slightest  alliance  with  the  views,  of 
a  work  which  is  very  much  spoken  of,  but  which  I  consider  entirely  unworthy 
of  notice  by  any  serious,  scientific  man,  because  it  is  made  up  of  old  fashioned  views 
which  have  been  before  the  notice  of  the  public  for  half  a  century  by  the  French 
school,  and  are  supported  only  by  antiquated  assertions,  and  by  no  means  by  facts, 
scientifically  ascertained. 

"  It  must  be  owing  to  some  particular  circumstance  that  this  work  has  been  so 
much  noticed,  because  really  it  is  not  worthy  a  critical  examination  by  a  serious, 
scientific  man"  P.  S. 


THE    END. 


TO  THE  READERS  OF  PETER  SCHLEMIHL. 

THIS  work  has  been  printed  in  a  distant  city,  and  the  Author  has  had  no 
opportunity  to  do  more  than  to  read  the  first  proof  sheets,  unaided  by  his 
manuscript.  There  are  some  few  errors  in  the  sheets  as  printed,  which  have 
either  escaped  his  notice  or  the  correction  of  the  press.  These,  however,  it 
is  hoped,  will  readily  be  corrected  in  the  reading. 

The  papers  forming  the  Appendix  will  satisfy  the  readers  of  Peter 
Schlemihl  that  there  has  been  no  exaggeration  in  treating  of  the  subjects  to 
which  they  refer. 

THE  AUTHOR. 


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